


I Met the Prince of Sleep

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Meetings [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Single Father (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:51:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave, Rose and the children explore Scotland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Walter de la Mare's poem _I Met at Eve_.
> 
> The quotes at the beginning of each chapter are from Black's Shilling Guide to Scotland. 12th edition, 1903, which I discovered through the great documentary Grand Tours of Scotland, which in turn was recommended to me by my wonderful beta xebgox. However, all the places in this fic are a product of my imagination.

Week One — The Lighthouse

One

_Speaking generally, however, there is little to prevent the automobilist from touring in every district of the country, and all the most picturesque regions are certainly available._

Rose needed an ally.

Badly.

Although their route through Scotland was, by necessity, arranged around Dave’s work for the Heritage Trust, the children had managed to find places to stay with indoor swimming pools. Apparently, the Morris children were keen swimmers. Rose hoped that the weather would be nice enough so they wouldn’t have to make use of the pools too often, and that Dave and Lottie would take them there instead of her.

The idea of the children seeing her scars sent shivers down her spine. How could she explain them without feeding their overactive imaginations? The idea of telling Dave how she really felt seemed silly. He’d tell her not too think too much and just cross the bridge when she got there. It felt almost impossible to her.

Neither could she tell Dave she had her period for the whole of three weeks; besides, they were in for three Wednesdays, and she certainly wanted to spend them with him like they spent all their Wednesdays; in bed, making love. She wanted the make love to him a lot.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her packing forgotten for the moment. Her eyes drifted to the frame holding Dave’s and her handprints. They were a work of art indeed, but sometimes she caught herself wondering, like right now, how long they were going to be like this. Their relationship had been put to a tough test right at its beginning, and they had passed. She was still surprised at how readily Dave and his children had accepted her history, not to mention Torchwood’s help. Would there come a moment when they realised who she really was, that her life was complicated and would make theirs a lot more difficult as well? It was inevitable. Paparazzi were a force to be reckoned with, and so far they had been lucky. It wouldn’t always stay that way, and no matter what Dave said now, it was going to be ugly. He only had a small idea of what her life was like, no matter what experience he had with celebrities.

Rose ran her fingers over the soft material of the jumper she was holding. Maybe she wasn’t giving Dave credit enough. He was in charge of the children; by being with her he knew exactly what he was in for. She had told him about her job, about what being the Vitex Heiress meant. He had listened to her intently and told her, again, that he knew what it meant, and that he still loved her. Maybe she herself was the problem. Maybe she didn’t trust herself in the face of the challenge of life with a man who reminded her of the Doctor, and who was a dedicated father of five, three of whom were still very young. She had told Lucy that she didn’t want to, and couldn’t, be their mother. What she could, and would, be is a friend; but a friend who would always defer to Dave when it came to difficult decisions about their upbringing. And that deference may, occasionally, feel like a betrayal. But she assured Lucy that it was not meant to be, but they were Dave’s responsibility and they all had to trust that he knew best.

“Stop it, you,” she reprimanded herself. She’d cross that bridge when she got to it. She loved Dave, and she loved the kids. They were going to be all right.

Standing, she added the jumper to the pile of warm clothes she had chosen to take on the journey. Surveying what she had, she made sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. It was a quick job; she was an experienced traveller, after all. She had made sure to pack the paraphernalia she needed for next Wednesday, which was her turn to organise, in an extra little bag which she tucked in an empty space left between her shoe bag and wash bag. She realised as she did this that she didn’t need to pack her suitcase for air travel. She’d put all her stuff into the boot of Dave’s trusty red Volvo so he could put his equipment in her small Italian import and could keep it in there for when he travelled to the more remote places to take his photos.

Looking after the children when Dave was away would give her a chance to spend more time with them. Lucy had decided to go to Venice with the Quinlans after all. It was a good decision, but it was also wrong on a few levels, but Dave had insisted that it was entirely up to Lucy. Rose would have liked a chance to get to know her better, and vice versa. After all, it was just the beginning of her relationship with Dave, and she didn’t want Lucy to feel left out when she returned and saw how, hopefully, closely her siblings had bonded with her. She was looking forward to this new challenge, but a challenge it was going to be.

An hour later she was en route to Dave’s house. She’d be spending the night so they could get an early start the next day and avoid Glasgow’s morning rush hour.

When she arrived at the house on Hillingdon Drive she couldn’t have chosen worse timing. The family’s luggage was scattered around the driveway, and all of them, including Anna and Beattie, were standing amidst it and trying to tell Dave the best way to pack his car.

Rose parked her car facing Dave’s and got out. Evie came running towards her to say hello, throwing herself in her arms. Rose crouched to hug her. One might think they hadn’t seen each other in a long while, when in fact it had only been a couple of days.

“We have too many things!” Evie told her.

“I can see that,” Rose said, kissing Evie’s cheek. She let go of her and joined Dave, carefully picking her way through the obstacle course of bags and boxes.

“Hello, love,” she said to Dave. He was ruffling his hair in despair and absentmindedly offered her his cheek for a kiss. Rose stood on tip toe to oblige him. Then she spotted his camera bag; he must have just returned from the studio to find this exodus scenario. The children were falling over each other to explain why they needed all the things they had packed.

“We’re never going to get all these things into the car,” Dave sighed.

“Cars,” Rose corrected him.

“No offense, Rose, but this,” he made a sweeping gesture at their belongings, “is never going to fit in two cars. Or rather, one and a half.”

“It looks a bit like you’re moving out,” she said, pushing the tip of her tongue into the corner of her mouth. She wasn’t offended by his comment about the size of her boot. He’d seen soon enough just how much it could hold if packed properly. Still, she wondered, “What is all this stuff?”

“The children insist we need it,” he said a little helplessly.

“The children,” Rose repeated, incredulous and amused. If Tony was anything to go by, then she had a fair idea of how the kids had packed their things. She exchanged a meaningful glance with Dave, and with Anna, who nodded in that I-told-him-so way that didn’t really help. “We need to take all this back inside and see if we can’t—”

“I’m not leaving any of my things behind,” Ewan announced. “Just so you know.”

“—reorganise your stuff a bit,” Rose continued as if Ewan hadn’t said anything. “Come on, you.”

Two hours later, their bags repacked and only few things left behind, the two cars were loaded. It was a tight fit, but neither car was overloaded. Rose tried not to be too smug about how impressed Dave was with the size of her boot now. Anna and Beattie had helped with dinner, and once they had left and the children had been sent off to bed, Dave, Rose and Lottie sat down in the parlour with a mug of tea each.

“Thank you for earlier,” Dave said. “You’re marvellous.”

“I felt a bit bossy, to be honest,” Rose said, sipping her tea.

“You were perfect. They love you, and they don’t want you to think badly of them,” Dave explained. “I’m looking forward to the trip. The bairns are going to be on their best behaviour because you are with us.”

“I’d rather they weren’t,” she said. Dave stared at her. “I mean, having good children on a holiday is a nice thing, but I’m certainly not a holiday. I’ll be around for much longer.”

“But they think of you as a holiday,” Lottie pointed out. “You’re different because you’re not mourning, and they can be themselves with you. You give them a break.”

Now it was Rose’s turn to stare. She’d never thought of it that way.

“It’s true,” Dave said, taking her hand. “You’re a holiday to me as well.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Rose warned, “it might be a very long holiday.”

“I hope so,” he grinned.

“What if I need a holiday?” she asked, only half-teasing. It wasn’t that she came entirely without baggage. To the children she was a blank slate, someone new, someone who, for the moment, had no past because they didn’t share many memories. But that was going to change soon.

Dave had dropped his eyes to where their joined hands rested on his knee. “Then I hope we’ll be able to return the gesture.”

Lottie, Rose noticed, kept staring into her mug. “I think I’ll go to bed now, if you don’t mind,” Lottie said.

Dave’s head snapped up. “Of course. I’m sorry. See you in the morning.”

“Sweet dreams,” Rose said, covering their hands with hers.

Lottie picked up her mug and left.

“I’m not usually that useless when it comes to packing,” Dave said, turning towards her. “The last job took longer than expected and I had no chance to oversee their packing. And then Anna and Beattie popped round. It was madness.”

“I could tell. I hope you aren’t mad at me for taking charge,” she said. It hadn’t occurred to her earlier that she might have undermined his authority. She’d just wanted to get this sorted quickly and avoid a major fight.

“No, it’s all right. Rita would… well, she was the practical, sensible one,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to keep telling you what Rita would or would not have done.”

Rose closed her eyes and traced the landscape of the back of his hand with her fingertips. It was hard for her to accept that, but what choice did she have? “I’ll be all right,” she said, biting her lip.

“Tell me if it’s getting too much, aye? With the bairns. They can be a handful.”

“I wish Lucy could be with us, though.”

Dave nodded. “I miss her too. I can’t imagine her not being there.”

“What about Tanya? How old was she when you left?” Rose asked. It wasn’t what he’d meant, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was a tricky questions, but it had been a good moment to ask him that. Dave tipped his head back. “She was three. Lucy was three when I met Rita, so in a way, having Lucy was like raising Tanya, minus the time between Michelle and Rita.”

“What happened?”

“Reality, I suppose,” Dave said. “We were both very young and it turned out that we were not one of those couples that grows up together, despite the baby. I spent a lot of time and energy on establishing the studio, and Michelle realised at some point that she didn’t want the life I could offer her.”

“What kind of life was she looking for?” Rose asked.

“I don’t want to sound mean, but I suppose that of a trophy wife’s. You know, successful husband, lots of money to spend on clothes… and bags. I dunno,” he said.

“I see what you mean,” Rose said. “People will say the same about you, though.” The words had left her mouth too soon.

“What?” Dave asked.

“That you’re taking advantage of me, particularly with four kids in tow,” Rose said. There was no going back now. She needed to tell him. “The press will make up all kinds of stories once they get wind of us.”

He seemed horrified at the idea, of course, but there seemed to be something else as well. As if he sometimes needed a reminder of who she was. She found that so charming about him and the kids. Although they knew Rose Tyler of Vitex fame, they seemed to be able to distinguish between her and their Rose. “Thanks for saying that,” he said. “Sometimes I forget.”

 

-:-

 

The gallery and black domed roof with the antenna were the first bits of the lighthouse they could see as they drove north from the small town whose harbour it guarded. Once the SatNav had guided them to the wooden gate on top of the hill, Rose, who’d taken the lead driving, retrieved the folder containing the address of their destination to make sure they were in the right place. The lighthouse was supposed to be part of Laighgairy, but in fact, she had taken the car about a mile and a half out of town.

Lottie kept craning her neck to assess their surroundings. There wasn’t really much apart from the low wall and the gateway, wind-kempt rolling hills and blueish mountain ranges in the distance. Rose turned around nervously as Dave pulled into the drive behind her.

“Well?” Lottie asked, rummaging in the side pocket for the map.

“This must be it,” Rose said doubtfully. They had passed the sign directing them to an aqua park not long ago; the kids had chosen the place because it was a lighthouse and for its location close to an indoor pool. Dave, all child again, had happily agreed to their choice.

“Hmm,” Lottie grumbled, tracing their way on the paper road.

Rose jumped when Dave knocked on her window. She wound it down. “Are ye all right?”

“Yeah. This seems to be it. Laighgairy Lighthouse,” she said, rechecking her files.

Dave shrugged. “It seems about right. There were a lot of signposts en route. To National Heritage Trust sites. I’ll just check if the gate opens.”

“Okay,” Rose hummed. According to the print-out of the email on her lap, it should open.

And it did. Dave grinned at her, and Rose shifted into gear, ready to release the handbrake as he pushed the gate open. Slowly, Rose pulled through it, waving at Dave.

The path took them down the hill on a narrow tarmac road until eventually they reached the cottages and the lighthouse. There were two cottages, one of which was attached to the lighthouse itself, a relatively squat white tower with a ribbon of black around its middle. The other cottage was also daubed in white which contrasted nicely with the black slate roof. Obviously, it had been added to accommodate the keeper’s family, but since the lighthouse was now remote-controlled, both cottages were available for holidays.

“Blimey,” Rose breathed, killing the engine and removing the key.

“Yes,” Lottie agreed. “Is this all ours? It’s huge.”

Rose referred to her folder again. “Yep.”

“Wow.” Lottie unbuckled and got out, inhaling the salty air deeply. Oddly, Rose hadn’t felt so free to breathe in a long time, no matter how much she got out and about on Torchwood missions. She laughed.

“The kids will love it,” she said, pointing at the vast expanse of grass with a wooden goal, a sandbox and a set of swings.

“Not only the kids,” Lottie winked.

 

-:-

 

Naturally, the kids insisted that Lottie stay with them in the keeper’s cottage. Although Evie was excited about the unusual home for the week, the lighthouse gave her the creeps, and she asked Lottie to leave the door to her room open once it was clear that there was no bed for her in the boys’ circular room. Lottie’s room was just across the hall from Evie’s. Rose wasn’t surprised that Evie would want to sleep with the boys; after all, she’d nearly lost Paul, and since she was very close to him she needed the reassurance of his presence.

“I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea,” Dave said, ruffling his hair.

“Don’t you trust Lottie?” Rose asked, watching the children as they carried their belongings into the keeper’s cottage.

“You know I do,” Dave said, mildly shocked. “It’s just…”

“Does the idea of us sharing the farmer’s house all by ourselves scare you?” Rose asked, sliding her arm through his, sliding the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

Dave’s eyes went wide. “No, ‘course not.”

“It’s where most of the action will take place,” Rose said. “The kitchen and the lounge are there.”

“Aye.”

She kissed his cheek. “Come on, let’s get our stuff.”

The master bedroom featured a huge bay window overlooking the shore and the minuscule beach below. It was just a narrow strip of sand, just big enough for the family and their games.

“The light in here will be glorious in the morning,” Dave mused, glancing over the bay.

“Just what you need, right?” Rose asked, sliding her arms around his midriff from behind. She kissed his shoulder and rested her cheek against his back. Part of her was loathe to see him out and about in the morning for his job, rather than cuddling and making love to her. Rose loved early-morning sex, and the idea of going back to sleep without him after didn’t really appeal to her. Maybe she’d accompany him one day and get fresh bread and fish from the town before the children woke.

Dave covered her hands with his. “Aye. But I’d love to stay with you.”

“Can’t you go out in the evening? It’s light long after tea,” she suggested.

“Nah. Too many places to go, besides, I want some time with my family as well,” he said, turning in her embrace.

Rose stood on tip toe to kiss him. “What about Wednesday?” They hadn’t had a chance to discuss their schedule since their lives had been a bit hectic just before they’d set off on their tour.

“Roseday is mine,” he growled, moving them to a very slow, unheard melody. Rose could feel the beginnings of his erection press into her hip. He kissed her deeply. “What have you planned?”

“It won’t be much of a surprise if I tell you, will it?” she asked.

“Och, Rose,” he groaned, kissing her again.

“Wait and see, yeah?” she asked, cupping his stubbly chin. “You haven’t shaved.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked. “I quite like a bit of stubble when I’m on holiday.”

“Nope. I like a bit of scruff.”


	2. Two

Two

_Consequently it is advisable that the rider should use circumspection when arranging his Sunday quarters, and if possible provide himself with something agreeable to read._

Dave stared out through the kitchen window, lost in thought, his hands in the dishwater. The bairns, Lottie and Rose were out playing, and he was glad for some alone time. The events of the past weeks made it impossible for him to unwind, it seemed, even if — or maybe because — this was a working holiday. Rose’s words stuck with him. He wasn’t very keen on the idea of leaving her early every morning either, but the light was most gorgeous then. Of course, it also meant turning in early, which wasn’t really his idea of a holiday. He hated the idea of sleeping away the afternoon when all he wanted was to spend time with his children. Maybe he should switch to a post-prandial routine instead. That way he’d get enough sleep.

His mobile went off with Lucy’s ringtone. He quickly dried his hands and fished the vibrating device from the pocket of his jeans. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Buona sera, papa. Come stai?” she asked in a less-heavily accented Italian than she’d used before the trip. He still wondered if it had been a good idea for Lucy to go to Venice with the Quinlans. He was glad that they had arranged for the adoption procedure to start before they left on their respective holidays. Strangely enough, Stuart had not put up a fight. The trip to Venice seemed like compensation, which was why Dave had been reluctant to let Lucy go. But she’d insisted.

He grinned, ducking his head. “I like it when you call me papa,” he said. And then, remembering, he added, “Cara.”

“How are you? Are you at the lighthouse?” she asked. Dave was surprised by how familiar Lucy was with their itinerary.

“Aye. It’s lovely. How’s life in the lagoon?”

“Stuart is spoiling us rotten,” she said. Her words had a slightly disapproving quality. “He buys us everything we want.” Lucy only rarely asked for something that wasn’t really essential, so it must be hard having her every wish — and then some — anticipated. “Well, he buys Alice and Gemma everything they want. I don’t tell him most of the time when I like something,” Lucy explained.

That was just the Lucy he knew; she was his daughter after all. “Are you unhappy, sweetheart?” he asked. He almost didn’t ask; he was still learning.

She didn’t reply.

“Because if you are, get a plane and join us,” he offered.

There was a beat or two during which he thought that she might say yes. “I’m all right. But I miss you. How are the wee ones?”

“Missing you,” he said, biting his lip. He needed to tell her, even if it might compound the feeling she’d made a mistake. Hell, he had made a mistake. He should have insisted she come with them. “Paul’s growing stronger every day. He’s already persuaded Ewan to play footie again.”

“Wow.”

“Aye. Listen, sweetheart. You can call me any time you want, aye? I’m looking forward to picking you up at the airport in two weeks.”

“Yeah. Thanks, papa.”

He smiled. “Sleep tight. I love you.”

He finished the washing-up before he went to the unused bedroom where he had left his camera bag. If he went now, he might just make it to the nearest castle before it got dark.

-:-

Dave awoke with a jerk, crying out as he sat up in bed trying to calm his mind, to bring it back from the altered state of deep sleep. Then he shuddered and exhaled slowly, rubbing his hands over his face in a violent gesture to wipe the image from his mind.

It was the same bloody dream he had most nights since their return from the Priory Infirmary. What terrified Dave so much was that he’d never had the dream when Rose was in bed with him. Now, for the first time, the dream had followed him into her arms.

He’d been at the hospital again in his dreams, and he’d seen Rita and Paul standing there, both of them only clad in the sheets wrapped around their bodies. The white of the material and the darkness of their hair set off the deathly pallor of their skin. They were staring at him, Paul surprised to be with his Mum, Rita reproachful with him for being so careless as to allow Paul to join her so soon. Then, suddenly, Rita let go of Paul’s hand and Paul disappeared into thin air, leaving his mother behind, who took on Dave's expression of surprise. When Dave tried to reach out for her she was lying on the gurney with her back to him and a porter came to wheel her away.

He turned to check on Rose. She lay curled up with her back to him, and in the faint light coming in through the bay window he could see the shadow he cast over her scars. Rose was breathing regularly, so if he was careful enough he could sneak out of the room to compose himself. He hastily tugged on the pyjama bottoms he’d discarded before they’d made love, and padded through the unfamiliar darkness and down the stairs for a drink of water in the kitchen.

The lawn lay still and silvery in the moonlight, and he could hear the waves crashing against the slick black boulders below the eastern side of the cottage. It was a soothing sound, but it was going to take him some time to go back to sleep. He poured himself a glass of water and drank deeply.

It was then that he noticed the colourful ribbons of an aurora borealis dancing above the black outline of the hills. The colours shifted from blue to yellow to green slowly, like the wind playing lazily in pennants. He frowned briefly; he’d never seen an aurora so far south, and certainly not at this time of the year. He’d have to ask Dad about it when he saw him next week.

As he lost himself in the shifting colours his thoughts returned to his dreams. So far he’d deemed himself safe in Rose’s arms. It wasn’t her fault, of course, that the dreams had caught up with him. They were bound to, but he’d hoped they wouldn’t for a long while yet. He supposed that with the slower pace of life during their holiday it was going to happen sooner rather than later. The question was what he could do to fight them. Probably nothing.

Sighing, he rinsed the glass and put it next to the sink upside down to dry. The images from the dream were clear; you didn’t need a guidebook to interpret them. They were so close to the surface already.

“Dad?”

Dave jumped. Evie was standing in the doorway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with one hand while clutching Amy to her with the other. She was barefoot.

“Evie,” he croaked. “Evie, love, what’s up?”

“There are strange noises in my room,” she said softly.

Dave knelt in front of her on the black and white tiles. “I know, love. It’s the sea.”

“Not the waves,” Evie said. “It’s creaking.”

“Creaking?” He lifted her up to sit on his hip. Reaching down he felt her feet were icy. She needed socks, and soon, so she didn’t catch a cold. In the hall, he slipped into his trainers and carried her across the moonlit court to the lighthouse.

“Dad, I’m scared.” She held tight to him.

“Aye, let’s see what the creaking is about,” he said.

“Can you stay with me?” she asked.

“Sure.”

There was no creaking sound when Dave pulled a pair of socks over Evie’s feet and rubbed them for extra warmth. Surprisingly enough, Evie allowed him to tuck her in without much fuss. “I’m sure you were just dreaming. Of all those pirate ships you and Ewan have been drawing?”

“Viking,” she said.

“What?”

“They’re Viking ships.”

“Of course.” They had been listening to audiobooks about pira—, Vikings as well, and they came with some extraordinarily well-done sound effects.

“Is there a ghost in this cottage?” Evie asked. “It’s an old house, aye? Old houses have ghosts.”

“I don’t think there is,” Dave said, brushing the hair from her forehead. “And even if there were one, I’m sure it wouldn’t scare little girls. That’s a bit cowardly, don’t you think?”

“Aye,” she said sleepily. He was glad that Rita and he had made it a point to teach the kids that picking on bairns smaller than themselves was just that, cowardly.

Then, the floorboards creaked behind him. Turning, he saw Lottie standing in the doorway. “Is everything all right?” she mumbled.

“See what the creaking was? I’m sure it was one of the boys on their way to the loo,” Dave said, caressing Evie’s forehead. “It’s the same at home.”

“No,” Evie insisted. “It’s different.”

“That’s because the cottage is different,” Lottie said, joining them.

“Can I have a cuddle?” Evie asked.

“Sure.” Dave stretched out on the bed beside her and Evie burrowed into him. Lottie nodded at them and went back to her own room, deliberately making the floorboards creak to prove her point to Evie.

“Can you stay, Dad?”

“Until you’ve fallen asleep. But I don’t want to scare you when I get up and make the floorboards creak, eh?” He kissed her forehead and stood after Evie nodded. He shifted his weight several times and the wood obliged him with the desired sound effects. “See?”

-:-

The three sites he’d planned to visit the next day were all within a ten-mile radius of the town, except the minuscule Abbey, which was in the town itself. He made that one his last stop before he found a small café where he picked up warm bread and pastries, as well as three cups of the irresistible aromatic coffee for breakfast. The milk float had stopped by the gate while he was gone and he picked up the milk bottles before he drove down to the cottages. The sun was well above the horizon, painting the white buildings golden and glinting off the antenna topping the lighthouse. He stopped halfway down and took a few pictures; turning around he also enjoyed the view over the harbour and the town as it slowly came to life.

Lottie and Rose were delighted by the coffee; they were already up when he dropped his shopping on the kitchen table.

“It scares me,” Rose said, cutting the dark bread into slices. The room filled with its mouthwatering smell.

“What does?” he asked, in alarm.

“That I’m already so used to sharing a bed with you that I can’t go back to sleep once you leave in the morning,” she said.

Not used to it enough, he was tempted to say. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed his absence during the night. He’d been gone far longer than he’d wanted.

“You could come with me,” he suggested, kissing her good morning.

“We’ll see,” she said, smiling. “Did you get some nice shots?”

-:-

They spent the rest of the morning exploring the town. It had a lovely bookshop set up in a deconsecrated church. The bairns laughed when he had to stoop very low to avoid hitting the lintel with his head. The interior of the shop smelled of paper and old leather. It was dark and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust from the brightness outside.

“Can I help you?” the shop assistant asked, glad for some customers. He was a student working a summer job, and, judging by his bloodshot eyes, obviously working on something late into the night. Or partying.

“Can I have a book with ghost stories, Dad?” Evie piped up, sliding her hand into his.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. The creaking floorboards scared you last night, remember?” he said.

“Please, Dad.” She was as serious as she ever got.

Dave sighed. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Are you staying up at Laighgairy?” the young man asked.

“Yes!” Evie said eagerly.

“You won’t need a book with ghost stories then,” the young man said.

Dave sighed in relief and gratitude for the man not undermining his authority for the sake of a cheap sale. “See, I told you there weren’t any ghosts,” he said.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” the shop assistant said. “The lighthouse has a nice collection of books, and there are some with ghost stories. Haven’t you seen it yet?”

“No,” Dave said, crestfallen. So much for that. Well, at least Evie couldn’t read yet. “We only arrived yesterday and haven’t had time yet. We want to make the most of the gorgeous weather.”

“Anyway, you’re well-stocked for a rainy day.”

“Can I have one of Lottie’s books?” Evie asked.

“I’m not sure they have search-and-find books here, sweetheart. Lottie was sent them by her family all the way from Germany,” Dave said. Evie loved the picture books that presented lots of action in one particular setting, with lots of people doing their own thing, much like in a Lowry painting. Evie would sit for hours looking at the pictures, mumbling to herself or Amy as she made stories up. The Viking pictures she and Ewan drew were clearly inspired by the German picture books.

“Oh.”

Her disappointment stung. “Maybe we’ll find something else, aye?” He’d promised each of the bairns three new books for the holiday. It was a reminder of his own childhood, when his parents had bought him a book for each week they were travelling, and new pencils and paper. He’d already given them the pencils and paper, but there had been no time to pick up the books before they left Glasgow. An hour later, they left the bookshop with rich bootie. Dave made a mental note to ask Paul about the old guidebook he’d picked up. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected him to choose as a holiday read, but then again Paul had an eclectic taste in books. The shop assistant had even wrapped the copy in tissue paper for extra protection before he had put it in the paper bag with Paul’s other book, this one brand new.

-:-

Dave worked hard the followings days so he could take Roseday off without compromising his already tight schedule. He’d no doubt have to spend another couple of weeks travelling when the bairns were back at school to make The Heritage Trust Fund’s deadline. The aim was to publish the coffee table book and the new brochure in time for Christmas, ready for the new gift membership Rose had dreamed up. But he needed the money. The compensation was going to be put into trusts for the children, and part of it was to be deposited in a special savings account to pay for the remodelling of his mother’s house. It might be easier if he bought a new place, a bigger and more modern one, but he couldn’t bring himself to sell his childhood home. Also, the architect in charge of the rebuilding of the Priory had worked wonders. If she was affordable, Dave would love to work with her.

“Why do you have to go?” Ewan asked as Dave put his overnight bag into the boot of Rose’s car.

“It’s Wednesday. You know Rose and I spend Wednesdays together.”

“Even on holiday?”

Dave wanted to tell him particularly on holiday, but that would have been cruel and not really true. “Aye. It’s the one time we can be sure that work won’t get in our way,” he said.

“Can’t you… kiss and cuddle here? You’ve got the whole cottage to yourselves!” Ewan argued, barely able to hide his disgust at the idea of kissing.

He had a point. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

Ewan grumbled.

“We’ll be back in the morning, with breakfast and my work done. We’ll have the whole of tomorrow together and we’ll do what you want.”

His son’s eyes lit up. “Can we go to the aqua park?”

Dave sighed inwardly. Rose would hate the idea, of that he was sure. “Aye.”

“Yay!” Ewan cried. Dave touched his shoulder and gathered him in his arms, dropping a kiss on his head. “You be good for Lottie, aye?”

“Yeah!” Ewan said, his eyes gleaming at the idea of a visit to the aqua park the next day. There was no point in reminding his son that they’d only go if they behaved. Ewan knew that condition very well.

“Good, you have a good day, aye?” He kissed him again and let go of him to say goodbye to the other two.

Then Rose and he were finally in the car, Rose steering up the drive to the main road. Dave dropped his hand onto her thigh. Rose gave him a pointed glance as she pulled to a halt to check if she could make a safe turn. “Is that all right?” he asked.

“Yeah, so long as you keep your hand still,” she said, “and don’t mind my hitting you when I shift. It is a small car.”

Dave grinned, gave her thigh a squeeze and withdrew his hand. He didn’t want to compromise their safety by his silly need to touch her. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“To Balmoral Castle,” she said. “Lottie and the kids will join us there for breakfast tomorrow, after you’ve done your day’s work. It’s such a lovely place for kids.”

Dave was quiet for a while. The castle’s mews and servants’ house was home to a beautiful five star hotel. It was, if he wasn’t mistaken, owned by the Heritage Trust Fund, and part of the rate was a donation to the maintenance of the castle itself. “But it’s unaffordable,” he said verly, almost as if restraining himself.

“Do you hate me for taking advantage of being the Vitex Heiress?” Rose asked.

“No,” he replied reluctantly.

“I have to put up with so many things, Dave, that sometimes I feel entitled to pamper myself a little,” she said. “You’ll see what I mean. And then you’ll probably decide that life with me isn’t for you and the children.”

“Rose!” He was absolutely appalled by her thoughts. “Pull over.”

“What?”

“There’s a lay-by ahead. I want you to pull over.”

They hadn’t even travelled five miles. “Get out,” he said when she’d stopped the car. The morning was chilly but promising, and the air was filled with scent of salt and the screeching of the sea gulls. He went around the car, grabbed Rose and snogged her until he thought his lungs might explode.

“What was that?” she asked, leaning against the car, dazed.

“I know who you are, Rose. Don’t you think I haven’t wondered what it would be like, being with a famous person?”

She stared at him.

“I’ve thought about it every waking moment that I wasn’t worried about any of my children. Do you have any idea of what life is like with four children in your care, hmm?” he asked, almost furious. “Do you really think I’d submit them to the scrutiny of the nation if I didn’t know exactly what I’m getting us into? You’re not… a girlfriend to me, Rose. A toy or a… a fling. I love you, for Christ’s sake. I love you, Rose, I love you, I love you, I love you. I—” He stopped himself there. “The thing is, I know what being with you entails. And I’m willing to go for it because I don’t want to lose you.”

Rose looked startled. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she finally managed to say.

“You didn’t. Not really. I just wanted you to know that I am very serious about you. So unless—”

She stepped up to him and clamped her hand firmly over his mouth. “Shush, you,” she said. When she felt no resistance, she dropped her hand and kissed him chastely. “I am very serious about you too. All five, or rather six, of you.”

The fact that Rose included Tanya although she’d never met her, made Dave’s heart swell. The two little words was all it took to convince him that she was serious about being with him and the bairns.

“It won’t always be easy,” he warned.

“Oh Dave,” she smiled, cupping his cheek. “I know that. And please don’t get me wrong when I tell you, yes, I know. Do you?”

He nodded. They’d talked about it often enough, and although the Tylers did have a privacy policy that was stricter than the royal family’s he was well aware of the fact that it wasn’t a guarantee. “Yes, I do,” he said.

“Good. Is there anything else we need to discuss before we get to bed?” Rose asked, her tone more playful now.

“Are you in a hurry, Miss Tyler?” he asked, placing his hands on her waist.

“Me? Never.”

“Get in the car,” he laughed, stealing a kiss from her.


	3. Three

Three

_Opposite the post-office, the river is crossed by an iron bridge, the nearest approach to Balmoral Castle, the favourite residence of our late Queen, whose memory will nowhere be held in truer affection._

The journey was short. It only took them about thirty minutes to get to the Balmoral Hotel. “The bairns’ tent is called the Balmoral,” he’d said dumbly as Rose pulled through the gateway into the forecourt that was part of the hotel. He’d shifted his hand to rest on Rose’s as she put the gear shift into neutral.

“No need to be nervous, Dave.”

“It seems like such a posh place. A waste to be here just for… sex.”

“Is that what you think? That this is just about sex?”

His eyes widened. “No! Absolutely not. I mean, it’s the perfect romantic setting, and—” He didn’t get any further as Rose silenced him with a kiss.

“Shut up, Dave,” she said gently. “Unless this place gives you the creeps.”

“It dosnae,” he said sincerely. “I’m just not used to it.” He had spent a huge part of his childhood travelling and staying at posh hotels. He just wasn’t used to it any more, particularly not after being with Rita, who was a very down-to-earth person, and certainly not after they’d had the children.

“Good, because it’s one of my favourite hotels. And I’ve stayed at quite a few.”

“I spent most of my school holidays at hotels such as this. My parents were on conferences all the time. I’m sure that if you ask Dad he’ll tell you it was only a handful of times at most. But it felt like it to me,” he said.

“What did your Mum do?” Rose asked. She knew his Dad, Murray, was an astronomer.

“She was a physicist, specialising in astrophysics,” Dave said. “They went to lots of conferences all over the world. I travelled with them when I could.”

“What did they think about you becoming a photographer?” Rose asked.

Dave laughed. “They weren’t surprised. In fact, they did everything to support me. Mum loved photography. I picked that up from her.”

“Oh,” Rose smiled, leaning across the gear box. “Shall we check in? I’m dying to visit the castle.”

“Haven’t you seen it loads of times?”

“Only once, and it was very rushed. I’m looking forward to getting a chance to really see it.”

“Okay.”

Although Dave was a little embarrassed at first to be getting the royal treatment once Rose had told the staff of the castle who she was, he soon appreciated it. They got to see rooms that were off limits to others, and their guide seemed to be especially dedicated to giving them the full picture. Dave made arrangements to come back the next morning with his equipment, and he took copious notes in his small black Moleskine until they’d seen everything and it was time for lunch. The maitre d’ had arranged for a relatively private table at the pub, and they had a light lunch as they discussed their options for the afternoon.

“Frankly?” Dave asked, leaning across the narrow table.

Rose mirrored him, giving him a lovely view down her neckline. She was wearing a bra he hadn’t seen on her before. His trousers were getting tighter. “Yeah?”

“I want you. Like, now.”

Rose pushed the tip of her tongue into the corner of her mouth. “Not as much as I do.”

The staff had taken their bags to the room as soon as it became available, so all the concierge had to do was give them their keys and wish them a pleasant stay. Rose held his hand tightly as they went up the narrow stairs to find their room. Dave was glad she hadn’t booked a suite, but a normal en-suite room. Still, the luxury of it all stunned him.

“Can you see now why this is one of my favourites?” Rose asked. She was standing with her back to the wall, her hands flat against the cream-coloured surface.

“Oh aye,” Dave growled. He swept down for a kiss, pressing her up against the wall with his body. She felt small against him, but she was so warm, and her curves were pressing into him in all the right places. He could feel his cock harden and strain against the material of his jeans, digging into the softness of her stomach.

“You really do want me,” she said, pulling back from his lips.

He stared at her, stunned. Why wouldn’t he?

She took his hand and guided it to her thigh. “Touch me,” she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. He pulled the material up without letting go of her thigh, and when could finally feel her he was surprised to touch skin and lace at the same time.

He looked at her, smiling. “Are you wearing what I think you’re wearing?”

She smiled back. “I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

He made a gleeful sound and took a step back to check. She was really wearing hold-ups. He ran his fingertips over the fine material, enjoying the silky feel of both the garment and her skin. She pushed her leg up against his hand.

“Oh, Rose,” he sighed, leaning down for another, much gentler kiss.

“So that’s good?” she asked.

“Very good.”

“Undress me, Dave,” she said after the kiss, leaning her forehead against his. She watched him as he unbuttoned her dress down to the last button and only then pushed the fabric aside to reveal what she was wearing underneath. It was a set of lacy lilac lingerie. “Do you like it?”

He took another step back to admire her. He brushed the dress off her shoulders and down her arms so it pooled around her ankles. Then he took her hand and pressed it against the bulge in his jeans. “Can’t you tell? You’re beautiful, Rose.”

She swallowed and nodded.

“Undress me,” he said. He didn’t take his eyes off her face as she unbuttoned his shirt and undid the fastenings of his jeans. Just like he had earlier, she took her time to reveal his body to her eyes although he didn’t have any surprise for her. It was just plain old him, in his grey pants; he was glad he hadn’t bothered with a vest. “The pants too.”

He’d left her underwear on, and for a moment he feared she’d take hers off too.

His eyes fluttered shut when she wrapped her fist around him and gave him a few strokes, with a twist and a kiss as she sank to her knees in front of him. “Rose, please.” He didn’t want her to think she had to do this, that he expected her to go down on him. Reaching down, he cupped her cheek to tell her when she took him as deeply as she could and he let out a strangled cry.

She’d swirled her tongue around him a few times, then she let him slide out of her mouth, over her soft lips. “Are you all right?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Aye,” he breathed.

She grinned. “Good. Relax.” Her hands were on his hips to make sure he didn’t wiggle away.

“Rose, please. You don’t need to do this.”

“But you love it?”

Helpless, he nodded. “Then please allow me.”

She took him into her mouth again, licking and sucking him, experimenting and trying to find out what he enjoyed most. He fell forward, bracing himself with one arm against the wall. The things she was doing to him made him want to float away, and he dropped his chin to his chest, but he couldn’t breathe, and… “Oh, Rose!”, he threw his head back and cried out as he spilled himself and he went all crumply and…

“Ooof,” Rose gasped as she broke his fall when his knees finally buckled. They ended up in an untidy heap on the thick carpet, Rose giggling, Dave panting, trying to join in her mirth. His eyes went wide when she wiped her mouth and licked her finger as if she’d tasted something really good. He flushed.

She scrambled to hold him and kiss him, and reluctantly he opened up beneath her lips. Their combined taste was odd. It was something he’d never done with Rita. She’d usually disappeared to rinse her mouth after she’d given him head.

Rose must have felt him tense. “Is this all right?”

“Never done it before, is all,” he admitted.

“Oh. You should have said.”

“I dinnae have a chance,” he said mildly. “But I suppose it’s okay.” He smiled at her.

“No, you didn’t, did you,” she sighed. “Please tell me if it’s too much.”

“You’re a bit of a wild one, you are, Rose Tyler,” he said, laughing, kissing her.

She giggled nervously and he realised that she had surprised herself as much as she had him. “My legs are falling asleep,” he said. “Shall we?”

Rose, glad for the out, nodded and stood. As she did, he noticed the dark patch in her knickers. He reached out and slid his hand up her leg, feathering his fingers over the front of her crotch. “You enjoyed that.”

“Yeah.” Then she took him by the hand. “Come on, you.”

He followed her to the bed. It had a beautiful wooden headboard and looked inviting with lots of pillows and an additional cream-coloured woollen blanket. Dave felt a sudden heaviness descend upon him, his body reminding him of the nearly sleepless night he’d had, and the wonderful orgasm Rose had just given him. He felt like an ungrateful bastard for asking, but, “Can we just have a wee nap?”

Rose looked at him solemnly. “Of course.”

He knew then that she knew. Not about Evie’s visit the previous nights, but about his dreams. There was no need for her to spell it out, and for a moment he feared she was going to ask him about them, but for some reason she seemed to change her mind.

Together, they removed most of the pillows so they could climb between the sheets. “May I hold you?” he asked.

Again, Rose didn’t say anything. She moulded herself to him and he pulled the covers over them. She pulled his hand towards her mouth to press a kiss against his knuckles. “Sleep well, my love.”

-:-

When he woke, Rose was naked.

“The undies might be hot,” she said, “but the bra was getting uncomfortable, and I wanted to feel you.” Rose had propped herself up on her elbow as she looked at him. He had let go of her and rolled onto his back. Rose dropped her free hand onto his chest. “Did you sleep well?”

“Aye,” he croaked. “Thanks. I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you’d planned for us today.”

“Dave. Anything that makes you comfortable, you should know that by now,” Rose said. “I love the sex, but sometimes there are things that are more important. Like you getting enough rest.”

He was incredibly grateful she didn’t mention the nightmares. He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about them yet, and he didn’t want to hurt her by telling her that. “Thank you, Rose.”

“What is it about Evie’s nightmares?” Rose asked.

Dave sighed, shifting to adjust the pillows and to sit up a bit. Rose waited for him to settle down before she rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead. “I’m not sure. She keeps telling me about a creaking sound. She’s heard it ever since we arrived at the lighthouse.”

“And? Is there a creaking sound?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. It must be the boys getting up at night to use the bathroom.”

“The thing is, Lottie’s awake as well, isn’t she?” Rose muttered, drawing idle patterns on his chest.

He turned his head away to look out of the window. It was still sunny outside, a shame really, to be in bed, but also it was the only place in the world he wanted to be. With Rose. “Do you have a theory?” he suddenly asked, looking at her.

Rose looked thoughtful. It was that expression she wore when she was mulling things over. Covering her dancing fingers with his hand, he made a mental note of her reaction for later reference. “Rose.”

“Yeah?” Her head snapped up and she looked at him wide-eyed.

“You were miles away just now.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked.

“Maybe Evie should sleep in one of the spare rooms in our cottage,” she mused. “To give her a good night’s rest.”

“Hmm.”

They lay in silence for a while. Dave studied the room, deciding that he liked the muted colours and the tasteful furnishings. The furniture and the carpet were dark, whereas the walls and all the fabrics were in different shades of off-white and cream. He snuggled deeper beneath the covers, pulling Rose with him.

“I’d have liked to make love to you in the stockings,” he suddenly said.

Rose smiled. “Is that a kink I don’t know of?”

“No. But maybe it will be,” he grinned, kissing her. He drew her closer to him, hugging her. “Oh, Rose. I’m so glad I found you. I love you so much.”

Rose hummed, and he wondered if maybe he was overwhelming her with all his emotions. Sometimes he forgot that she had lost someone too, that the last attempt at getting her old life back had failed. It might be selfish, but he was glad. He trailed his fingers over her scars to remind him of the fact that she’d nearly died, that he’d almost missed the opportunity to get to know her. He had found her and he had probably saved her life, but that didn’t give him any right to possess her like this, to come in her mouth because his feelings for her were so overpowering.

“Hey,” Rose said, sitting up. “You still here?”

He felt his lips thin into a tight line. Concern made her pucker her lips. He reached out to brush back a lock of hair, but then he noticed that her bun had come undone as she’d lain with him, and he removed the elastic holding it up. Drawing his fingers through her golden tresses, he arranged her hair like a mane about her face. She was a lioness — even if lionesses didn’t have a wild mane like this.

“I was just thinking that I can be a selfish bastard sometimes.”

“Oh. Aren’t we all?” she said.

“You worry so much about me, care so much about all of us and I wonder what it is that we give you in return,” he said. The words were tumbling out of him, heavy and lumpy, but it felt good to tell her.

“Are you serious?”

He dropped his hands. “Course I am.”

“You’re being… what’s the word? Glaikit.”

He guffawed. “Stupid?”

“Yeah. You’re not used to accepting what you want or need,” she said.

He stared at her.

“I like giving. What just happened, I wanted to do because I love you and because I worry, all the time, and you were so tense. It’s our holiday, Dave. And while I know that… being happy isn’t something that comes easily to you these days, because I know how guilty I feel when I'm happy, I at least want you to be content and… well.”

He swallowed. “Are you happy, Rose?”

“Yes. It makes me giddy, and guilty, but you know what? It’s what the Doctor would have wanted for me. I know it. He tried to leave me behind before. Telling me getting back to him was impossible. It wasn’t. I became Bad Wolf,” she said. Clearly, she hadn’t planned to tell him all of this.

“Bad Wolf,” he echoed lamely.

“She… let’s just say it’s her I have to thank for my gift of languages and healing powers,” Rose said.

“So you got him back once, against all odds,” he said. He suddenly understood her so much better. It was obvious she’d try again, with the Dimension Cannon.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to build a life here because I thought… But that’s over now. I have you,” Rose said. “And the children. I want all of you.”

Dave closed his eyes. “I am a grandfather,” he said softly.

Rose guffawed, then laughed.

“Tanya has a wee boy, Samuel,” he explained.

Rose looked at him. “You’re not a grandfather to me. I mean,” she flattened her hand against his chest, “I know you are. But I don’t think you are. You’re far too sexy.”

“I am fourteen years your senior, though,” he pointed out.

“I know.”

“And you still want me.”

“Yes,” she said sincerely. “You see what I mean about give and take? You’ve given so much, and never really learned to take. I was hoping that it’d be different with me.”

“I’m not some project, Rose.” He felt ashamed for blaming her with the same thing Lucy had blamed him for, seeing her as a project because he didn’t have Tanya any more. But he could understand her.

“Neither am I. Nor am I the Vitex Heiress,” she said.

“No.”

Rose smiled. “What say we go for a walk?”

“That’s quite killed the mood, hasn’t it?”

“Let me just put my stockings back on,” she whispered before getting up. His eyes went round.

-:-

By the time they returned from the long walk around the castle grounds it was time for dinner, and again the maitre d’ had given them a secluded table. The walk had cleared the air between them, and they had returned to less difficult conversation, discussing the rest of their stay at Laighgairy. As they walked he had sensed that Evie’s nightmares bothered Rose. He had given her the space she needed, though, content to walk hand in hand with her. He couldn’t believe his luck at finding a woman who was equally comfortable having deep conversations about life as she was just sitting enjoying some quiet time together.

Accepting wasn’t something that he was good at, but he was willing to learn. Rose was giving herself to him because she wanted to. She did it because she just couldn’t help herself. The things she’d done to get back the Doctor were just a deeply-rooted need, just like she was dedicating herself to his family now. And she did all that without giving herself up in the process. She was more independent in many ways than Rita had ever been for all her secrecy and need for alone time.

When Rose returned from the bathroom between coffee and pudding, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was wearing the sheer hold-ups again. A rush of excitement pooled in the pit of his stomach. He needed to give that night. He needed her to know that he understood her and loved her.

“You’re beautiful,” he said as she sat facing him. With pleasure he saw how she coloured a little. He took her hand and whispered against her knuckles that he wanted her with her stockings on when they returned to their room.

“Will you take me from behind?” she asked, dropping her voice a few notches.

They couldn’t get to their room fast enough. He pushed her up against the wall again, this time with her front pressed against the wall, her hands pinned up above her head as far as they would go, and he reached between her legs, cupping her sex. When he was sure she would keep her arms lifted, he touched the tops of her thighs and the lace of her stockings and knickers. He took her by the waist to make her arch away from the wall and began to unbutton her dress.

“Does your bra still bother you?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. He smiled when he saw her shiver as his breath ghosted over the skin of her neck. He touched her arms so she lowered them so he could take off her dress.

“Yeah.”

He undid the clasp and allowed her to get rid of the bra, bringing her hands up again. “Can I?” she asked, bracing herself against the wall with her lower arms, her hands flattened against the creamy wall.

He caressed her, cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples. “Oh, Dave,” Rose moaned.

“What do you want, Rose? Say it. Tell me.”

“Touch me. Take off my knickers and touch me. I want to come,” she said.

It occurred to him then that he hadn’t returned the gesture earlier, despite the evidence of her arousal. He brushed down her knickers and knelt to caress and suckle at her as much as possible, given their position. Then he stood, undid his trousers and slid into her. She felt exquisite, and he enjoyed the moment of feeling her velvety warmth against him, rather than through a condom.

Rose had cried out as he sank into her.

He withdrew and pushed back, once, twice. Then he slid out of her. “Need a condom. Now,” he said hoarsely. It was now or never.

“Yeah, hurry,” she moaned.

He hastily fumbled with the latex, making sure that, despite his shaking fingers, he got it on securely. Why was he so excited? He took a step back and looked at Rose. She was amazing, even, or because she was, standing here like that. He hugged her and slid slowly into her, making her turn her head so he could kiss her. “I love you, Rose.”


	4. Four

Four

_The fact that the Saturday is gloriously fine is no criterion of what Sunday’s weather may be._

Evie’s nightmares bothered her more than Dave’s. It wasn’t that she took them more seriously than Dave’s, but she saw every morning how sleepy Evie still was, and how grumpy she was getting not only because of lack of sleep, but also from frustration. She and Dave now believed that there was something going on, but as long as they didn’t know what it was they couldn’t do anything. It drove her nuts.

Dave’s nightmare was an entirely different thing. It bothered him too, but in contrast to Evie he kept it close to himself. Rose had a feeling he wasn’t ready yet to talk to her about it. Whatever it was, it must be terrible, and she wished he’d tell her so she could help him. But she also knew that he hadn’t mentioned his nightmares to Rita either because she’d just talked them away, which had driven him to coping with his dreams through his art. And even that he rarely showed anyone.

Sometimes she wondered if he’d ever learn he could share these things with her. She wasn’t being fair, though. He’d already allowed her into the haunted photos of the empty rooms, a work that was deeply personal. On top of it all, he’d trusted her with it very early on in their relationship. She’d have to trust him to come to her when he felt ready.

The creaking from Evie’s dreams wouldn’t leave her alone as she took a shower after Dave had left for work. Something about his explanation, that it was just the floorboards when someone crossed them, didn’t seem right. It was perfectly logical and yet his theory was deeply flawed. If it were really the boys startling Evie on their way to the bathroom they’d have to see a doctor soon. Paul and Ewan had told her that they didn’t need to go to the bathroom at night. Likewise, Lottie slept through the night. Which strongly suggested that it was a dream, but that didn’t sit right either.

The water cascaded over her face and down her body. The warmth and the beat of the water on her muscles were very welcome. She felt more than a little sore after their nocturnal activities. After Dave had taken her up against the wall, they had moved to the bed for a cuddle, only to make love a second time, with her stockings on, and while it had lasted longer it hadn’t been any less intense. She had been surprised at the raw intensity with which Dave had driven them to another orgasm. Rose couldn’t even remember how often he’d made her come in between the wall and the bed. He had returned any debt from that afternoon, twice over, before he had allowed himself to slide into her again. They had given themselves to the other with abandon, something they had agreed wasn’t possible at the cottage.

She packed her bag and carried it to the car before she sat in the lounge with a book to wait for Dave’s return and the children’s arrival. The spot she had chosen was a high-backed sofa facing the fireplace, hiding her from view of other early birds. A waitress appeared, probably alerted of her presence by the concierge, and took her coffee order. After the shower, coffee was the other stimulant Rose needed to start her day.

It was difficult to concentrate on her novel, so she soon gave up and sipped her coffee. She decided that they’d have Evie sleep in either another room in the keeper’s cottage. Also, provided Dave agreed, it might be a good idea to slip into Evie’s mind to get a clearer image of what was bothering her. Rose was sure it wasn’t just a sound that scared her enough to wake her up. Particularly after Dave had told her that Evie usually was a sound sleeper, and that nightmares had never been an issue.

Maybe Evie had chosen the only haunted room in the cottage. She’d been very eager to hear the ghost stories stashed away in the keeper’s cottage library, but Dave had said no, afraid of making things worse if she heard disturbing tales. But that could actually help them because Evie might recognise something and point them into the right direction. But that would mean actual paranormal activity was involved, and as far as Torchwood was concerned, paranormal activity was always alien activity.

Or was she seeing zebras? As far as she knew Evie was the only child who had yet to show how much her mother’s death affected her. She had read a few things here and there about this kind of trauma and it wasn’t unusual for small children to react much later.

Finishing her coffee, Rose wasn’t sure which theory she preferred. It seemed obvious, however, that moving Evie from her room would help. It had the added benefit of being a simple solution that did not put the blame on anyone. The boys, Ewan in particular, had been upset by Evie’s accusations of them playing ghosts in the hall to scare her.

“Would you like another cup of coffee, ma’am?” the waitress asked.

Rose jumped a little, angry at herself for losing herself so completely in her musings. “No, thank you. I’ll wait until the others are here. Otherwise I’ll just start bouncing off the walls, and no one wants that with three children in tow.”

The waitress smiled.

“The children are actually quite well-behaved,” Rose added when she felt the young woman tense up.

“I’m sure they are,” she said, flushing a little before vanishing again.

Dave appeared soon after, looking happy and bending to kiss before sitting down beside her.

“How did it go?”

“It was magical! Plus it really helped that I took all those notes yesterday. They really sped things up a bit. I got some lovely shots,” he said enthusiastically. “I really should do more gigs like this. Studio photography can be a bit… lab-like sometimes.”

“Boring,” Rose said.

He laughed and kissed her again. “How are you this fine morning, my love?”

“A bit sore. But pleasantly sore. Thank you for last night,” she said softly, weaving her fingers through his. “I’ve been thinking.”

Dave reached up with his free hand to smooth the lines on her forehead. “What about?”

“Evie’s nightmares.”

After she had given him the least scary version of her early morning’s work, he rubbed her knuckles. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“What?”

“The way you care, I hope it won’t ever cease to amaze me, or become something I take for granted. You’re so generous.”

Rose didn’t know what to say. “So what do you think?”

“Let’s move her to another room in the keeper’s cottage first,” he suggested. “I want to have you to myself for one more night.”

Rose nodded, grinning. She was glad for his reply. That way, if Evie didn’t experience a nightmare in her new room, they’d know it was a Torchwood case. Excitement pooled in the pit of Rose’s stomach. A little mystery to solve wouldn’t hurt. Besides, this was a working holiday, wasn’t it?

Dave’s phone chirped with an incoming message. “It’s Evie. They’re here.”

“Brilliant. I’m starving.”

“You’re telling me,” he grinned, giving her a chaste kiss.

-:-

The skies became overcast while they were inside exploring the castle with the children. Dave used the opportunity to take some pictures of them all with interesting backdrops. By lunch, it was dark enough that they expected the streetlights to come on. Since breakfast had been a scrumptious feast — they were Ewan’s words, which he had picked up in one of his books — lunch was just a brief picnic of sandwiches and fruit in the castle grounds. The boys used the time to go exploring on their own, while Evie fell asleep cuddling with Dave. She’d slid onto his lap at one point and nodded off in his arms. She’d only nibbled at her sandwich, even though it was her favourite, egg-mayo.

“How bad was it last night?” Rose asked Lottie.

“She was really brave,” Lottie said. “I’m not sure if the anti-monster-under-the-bed spray helped.”

“The what?” Dave guffawed, carefully removing his daughter’s glasses.

“I saw it mentioned in an online forum, and I decided to try it. It’s really just water with a bit of scented oil,” Lottie explained. “I bought a small spray bottle and stuck the label on it that came as a free download. I’d forgotten about it, or else I’d have used it earlier.”

“You are priceless, you know that,” Dave said. “Did it help?”

Lottie laughed. “I’m not sure. She may have just been humouring me. She’s a very clever wee girl.”

“That she is.”

“She’s going to sleep in a different room tonight,” Rose said. “I want to try something.”

“Oh! Torchwood stuff?”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s just psychological warfare, like your anti-monster spray,” Rose grinned.

“Psychological warfare?” Dave frowned.

“It’s less martian than you think,” Lottie said.

Dave and Rose laughed. “If it’s Torchwood it might be Martian. Martial is the word you want, Lottie,” Dave said. Then he sobered, turning to Rose. Obviously the penny had finally dropped. “Do you really think it’s alien influence?”

Rose shrugged. “We can’t be sure until I’ve tested that theory. But I don’t think that it’s anything dangerous.” She saw Dave withdraw slightly. Paul’s Illness had left its traces, and she still had no idea why he was still so scared of Torchwood.

“Why is it that we can’t have a week go by without an alien threat?” Dave said, attempting for levity, but it was obvious that the idea upset him. Just how much it did Rose couldn’t tell yet.

“Occupational hazard,” Rose said.

“Aye. Come on, we’d better get going if we want to get home dry,” Dave said. He shifted Evie, who was deeply asleep, in his lap so he could carry her to the car. She didn’t even so much as stir when he strapped her into her car seat. Lottie decided to join Rose for the return journey.

“How bad is it really?” Lottie asked.

“If only I knew that,” Rose sighed. “It might be nothing. But I think if it were something dangerous we’d know by now. We’ve stayed at the lighthouse five nights.”

“It might not be anything at all,” Lottie said. “I can’t hear it.”

“That’s what puzzles me,” Rose said, following Dave’s car.

“The children want to go to the aqua park,” Lottie said. “Looks like the weather is on their side.”

Fat raindrops began to explode on the dusty windshield, and Rose slowed down momentarily until the windshield wipers had cleared her sight. Rose exhaled slowly. “Yeah, looks like it.”

-:-

At the aqua park, Rose gladly stayed with Evie as the others went exploring the wonders of the water slides, grotto, whitewater canal, and wave pool. The lack of sleep was catching up with the girl, and after a little splashing around in the water she changed into dry clothes and promptly fell asleep. Rose didn’t mind at all; she made herself comfortable on the lounger, wrapped in the thick robe she’d borrowed at reception, and started to read. Lottie had disappeared in the direction of the saunas, so Dave and the boys could play all the wild games boys enjoyed. Dave had seemed a bit disappointed that she didn’t want to join them, obviously not picking up on her desire not to expose her scars to the children. If she really did need to get into the water, she hoped it would only be for a few laps in the pool reserved exclusively to those who had just come to swim rather than frolic about.

“Why didn’t you join us?” Ewan asked when they returned to the loungers where they’d set up camp. He was shivering all over, and his lips were bluish. Dave and Paul were the same. “The slides are great!”

“I didn’t want to leave Evie by herself. And Lottie wanted to have some fun too,” Rose explained, rubbing Ewan down before he changed into something dry. She was surprised that he allowed her to give him the wee boy treatment. It must be a form of mild regression, or the need for reassurance. Rose wasn’t sure what it was.

After the boys had snuggled into their robes and started to read and munch on some hastily purchased biscuits, Dave lay down on the lounger beside her and reached for her hand. “Ewan really likes you,” he said.

Rose smiled, a warm shiver travelling down her spine. Ewan was still the only child she felt she did not know at all. “You think?”

“What he just did? Hero worship. You saved his big brother, and you helped his big sister.”

“Just doing my job,” Rose whispered, ducking her head. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.

“They kept asking why you didn’t join us.”

She looked up at him. Did he really have to ask?

“I told them that you’re afraid of the merpeople populating the waves pool and the whitewater canal,” he said.

Rose’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

“Did too.”

“It stopped them asking,” he grinned, leaning forwards for a kiss. “They didn’t believe it, if that’s any consolation.”

“I don’t know how to tell them about my scars,” Rose said. “I do want to play with them in the water. But… I’m not sure about the scars. I don’t want them to know yet. It’s… too soon, considering what they’ve been through.”

“Are you sure it’s not because it is too soon, considering what you have been through?” Dave asked, claiming her lips for another brief kiss. It wouldn’t do to offend the other bathers.

Rose looked at him searchingly. She had underestimated him, taking his apparent oblivion to her concerns — her unvoiced concerns — to be ignorance, when in fact he knew exactly that feigning nonchalance would work best to distract the kids. “Thank you, Dave.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

He lay back on his lounger, his hand still in hers, and nodded off too.

Rose frowned as she turned to look at Evie, who was lying on the lounger to her right. She was still sleeping. She’d been sleeping a lot that day. It must be three hours now. Had she really missed that much sleep?

Later, while Lottie and the kids were having races down the slides, Dave and Rose went to the swimming pool proper, and they swam quite a few laps. Rose had missed swimming, but she was relieved to find that she hadn’t got out of form yet. She swam her laps with powerful, regular strokes, losing herself in the motion and the sensation of the water sliding over her skin. The lack of sensory input where her skin was scarred was odd, reminding her that Dave had been right. It was too soon to talk about them. He was the only one who knew; well, the only one apart from Mum, Mickey and Dominic. But that was okay. She really had no idea how to explain them to the kids.

-:-

“How about some ghost stories?” Rose suggested as they settled in the farm house lounge after dinner. Once again, it was Dave’s turn to do the dishes.

“Dad says I won’t sleep if I have one at bedtime,” Evie said. Although she had caught up on some sleep, she was exhausted again, this time from splashing about all afternoon. It was still raining, and dusk had fallen faster because of it. They had turned the gas fire on, and everyone was enjoying Lottie’s fabulous hot chocolate. Rose was sure that they would soon talk about it in capital letters; it was that good.

“You’re having nightmares already,” Paul reasoned.

Evie looked at him thoughtfully, then at Rose. She shrugged. “He’s right.” Lottie and Ewan nodded.

“Can I choose it?” Evie asked.

“Sure,” Paul agreed. He looked ready to drop as well, and Rose exchanged knowing glances with Lottie. If all went well, the kids would be up in bed sooner rather than later, after one last adventure that day. The adventure of going to bed in their wellies and with umbrellas.

“Is there a Viking one?” Ewan asked.

“I don’t know,” Evie replied. “I can’t read.” She gave the book to him. He scanned the table of contents until he found something Evie approved of, and then passed the book to Lottie. “You read. I like your accent.”

Rose had to admit that it was an excellent choice, on both accounts, because Lottie’s guttural Germanic suited the story of the rough sea and even rougher men perfectly, trapped in whose midst were hapless travellers and beautiful women — of course — and a shipwreck on the black boulders beneath the lighthouse.

“Why didn’t they see the rocks? There’s the lighthouse!” Evie wondered.

“That was before they built the lighthouse, Evie,” Paul explained to her.

“Well, not this lighthouse, anyway,” Lottie corrected. She found the line with her finger and continued to read: “Twelve miles off the coast stands the Bell Rock. Formerly, the Abbot of Laighgairy had a floating bell moored on this rock, whose warning toll was heard during a storm. According to a tradition, the bell was once wantonly cut away by a pirate, whose vessel afterwards, by a strange retribution, drifted on the rock and perished with her crew.”

“Serves him right,” Ewan muttered.

“But the poor people who died because the bell was missing,” Evie murmured.

“Yeah, and their ghosts are still haunting the place, because ghosts always haunt the place where they died,” Ewan added for good measure.

“Is that why the floorboards are creaking?” Evie asked.

“Possibly,” Ewan said in his best scary-voice.

“Ewan, I think that’s quite enough, eh?” Dave said, massaging some lotion into his hands. He had been standing in the doorway, listening. And none of them had noticed him. Rose wondered how long he’d been there.

“But she’s having nightmares anyway! Rose said so,” Ewan protested.

“Still, it’s not nice.”

“Man.”

“I think it’s bedtime for you now,” Dave said, and promptly, Paul yawned, and, because it was contagious (or psychological warfare), his siblings followed suit. They put on their coats and wellies with a lot fanfare, and it was all Lottie could do to keep them from dancing in the rain as they started to dance with the rain pummeling their umbrellas. Dave wrapped his arm around Rose as they watched them cross the courtyard to the keeper’s cottage for the night.

“Bunch of little rascals,” Rose commented as Ewan waved at them and Lottie pushed the door closed.

“You’ve got to love them.”

“Yeah.”

Dave closed the door, then drew Rose into his arms for a kiss. They soon deepened it and Rose moulded her body to his. “I haven’t thanked you for the lovely Roseday yet,” Dave murmured as he leaned his forehead against Rose’s.

“My pleasure.”

He chuckled. “I certainly hope so.”


	5. Five

Five

_It is whispered to contain a mysterious chamber, the secret of which must be known only to three persons at once._

Dave woke crying. Tears were streaming down his temples and into his hair and ears when his eyes flew open with all the suddenness of a corpse coming back to life in a cheap horror flick.

“No,” he moaned.

The images of his dreams were still very vivid, and he knew they would be for a while yet because it was that kind of dream. Paul and Rita had been in it, holding hands as they stood dressed only in sheets, both of them ghostly pale. Then, however, the familiar story of the dream changed. Paul didn’t leave Rita. Dave’s Mum joined them. She was beautiful, and just like Rita, she looked unharmed by the accident that had taken her life. They just looked at him, their expressions blank like dolls.

Dave was chilled to the bone by Paul’s presence in the scene. He had survived the Illness. There was no room for him among the dead. What was worst in the dream, Mum went and draped her arm around the grandson she never knew she’d ever have.

Did that mean that although Paul had survived the Illness he was going to die in a road accident, like his mother and grandmother? Like Rose almost had?

Dave sat up, panting, trying to get his breathing back under control. He was being silly. He didn’t believe in Fate, never had, and he certainly didn’t believe in dreams either. What he believed was that dreams reflected the events in his life, and his subconscious’ take on them, a different way of looking at them. What did his Mum’s presence in the dream mean?

“Rose?” he whispered, but when he turned to look at her he found her side of the bed empty. He blinked.

It was still raining, and he could hear the water gurgling hollowly in the gutter. He wondered if the bairns were all right. And where was Rose? He touched the spot under the covers where she had lain and found it cool. She must have been gone for a while. Was it one of the children who had roused her? Evie was sleeping in a spare room at the keeper’s cottage.

“Rose?”

He stood to check the en-suite, but it was dark. He quickly washed his face before he slipped on his jumper and padded downstairs, putting on his trainers and grabbing one of the umbrellas before he hurried out into the cold night. The rain was beating a furious tattoo on the taut material of the brolly, and he discovered, much to his dismay, that she short walk across the court had soaked the legs of his pyjama bottoms. He hated it when his ankles got wet and cold.

He checked on the boys first. They slept in the lighthouse itself, and he was glad that the metal steps of the spiral staircase didn’t make any noise as he climbed them barefoot. Both boys were fast asleep, totally knackered by the long day they’d had. Splashing about in the aqua park had taken its toll on them more than they’d been ready to admit. He rescued the book from between Paul’s fingers and switched off the reading lamps above both his sons’ beds. Then he hurried to check on his youngest.

Evie was fast asleep in her new room. It was a bit strange to see her there because she hadn’t moved her things yet, so the room was even more impersonal than it already was. Also, it was strange to see her sleep in a normal-sized bed. She seemed even smaller, but she seemed to be perfectly comfortable, if the tangle of the covers were any indication, had been in bed and asleep for a while. Evie was fine, he realised.

But where was Rose? She hadn’t been in the farm house’s lounge, nor the kitchen. Following sudden inspiration and the idea that she couldn’t resist a challenge, not even on holiday, he peeked into Evie’s room. Rose was sitting on the bed, the covers draped over her crossed legs to stay warm.

“Rose?”

She turned her head to look at him, blinking into the light from the hall. He realised he must not be more than a dark shape against a dazzling rectangle of light. “Dave, love.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Listening to the creaking.”

“Oh.” For a few beats he didn’t know what to say. Her reply had been so matter-of-fact that it was he who felt silly. “Well? Can you hear anything?”

“Yeah. Come, join me,” she said, holding up the covers. He slid into the bed behind her and pulled her back against his chest. Rose covered his hands with hers where they lay on her stomach. And after a while he heard the creaking too. It sounded exactly like someone walking around in the room. They seemed restless, pacing. It wasn’t someone who sat working at a desk and got up to get a book off the shelf or a drink from the kitchen. This was someone who was restless.

The hairs in the back of his neck stood on end and he shivered. Rose must have felt the tremor go through him. She squeezed his hands.

“What is this? Who is this?” Dave whispered.

“A poor troubled soul,” Rose replied in hushed tones as if she were afraid of alerting the person to their presence.

Dave frowned. “But why are they only in this room? Why don’t they haunt the whole house and all the people in it? Why just here?” he wondered aloud. Listen to yourself, he thought. Trying to figure out who this is and what they’re doing instead of dismissing it for the fantasy it is.

“I don’t know,” Rose said. “Come on, let’s check on Evie and go back to bed.”

“She’s fine.”

“Good.”

Huddled beneath the umbrella they hurried back to the farm house and into bed. Dave’s pyjama bottoms were hopelessly soaked so he just brushed them and the jumper off before he slid into bed. “What was that?” he wondered again as he waited for Rose to join him. She, too, undressed completely before she went back to bed. He nearly forgot about his question as her naked skin slid against his beneath the covers.

“It wasn’t a ghost,” Rose said.

“Of course it wasn’t,” Dave said, mildly annoyed.

“I’d need to do some experiments. For which I’d need equipment and the boys. Neither of which I’m sure we want here right now. Right?” she said softly, draping herself over him, propping her chin on her fist as she traced the line of his jaw.

He smiled slowly. “Right.”

“Sometimes we just have to accept things. It could be temporal feedback. I think that, given the geography of this place, we might get to see driftwood from the universe. There’s a rift in time and space that runs through Glasgow. I don’t see why it shouldn’t be the case here. We are on an island, after all,” she explained.

“Temporal feedback,” he echoed.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. Somehow I think ghosts are more romantic.”

“But also more terrifying.”

“That, my love, is a matter of perspective.”

Rose sat up, straddling him. “I’m sorry, Dave. Sometimes I forget that Torchwood isn’t your world.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She started massaging his bare chest, pushing her fingers through his chest hair and raking her nails across his skin as she mirrored the ebb and flow of the waves. Dave closed his eyes; he was close to purring. He began to draw lazy circles on her thighs with his fingertips.

“Why are you scared of Torchwood? I’ve been meaning to ask,” she whispered, sensing his discomfort.

Dave decided to kick the ball right back at Rose. “My apprentice, Miles, was killed by the Daleks. He was very talented.”

“Daleks,” Rose said, sitting very still.

He opened his eyes. “Aye.”

“You never said.”

He slid his hands off her thighs to take her hands. He pushed his fingers between hers so he could feel her palms against his. “It’s not really something you advertise to your girlfriend, particularly if she’s the director of Muirbank, is it?”

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Dave.”

“It wasnae your fault. I know now that your Torchwood is different from what happened back then,” he said. “Besides, I know what you did. You stopped them.”

She moved as if to dismount, but he made her stay where she was. Their fingers were tightly laced, and unless she wanted to hurt both of them she’d have to remain seated on top of him. “That was when you lost the Doctor, right?”

She merely nodded.

“What a price to pay,” he said, sitting up. He let go of her to wrap his arms around her. She slid off his lap a little, her sex brushing against his in the process. Although it was pleasant to feel her against him this wasn’t the moment to be thinking about sex. After a few beats Rose rested her cheek against his shoulder and returned the hug.

-:-

They told the children Rose’s idea about the creaking, both to take the blame off the boys and to reassure Evie that she hadn’t been imagining things. Evie decided to sleep in the new room for the rest of their stay and moved her things all by herself. Dave didn’t tell Rose about his dreams, however, or why he had gone in search of her at the keeper’s cottage.

The day was grey and rainy so they stayed in and played some of the games Ed the landlord provided for their entertainment, and watched a film they had brought. Dave had allowed each of them to bring two films for cases of rainy days like this, so they had a good selection of a dozen DVDs. He wanted to cut down on their TV time, and he thought that this was the best way to do it. Watching a film had always been a special treat when Rita had been alive, and he wanted it to become a special treat again.

The idea of temporal feedback wouldn’t leave him alone, though. The way Rose had explained it to him he understood that a place’s history and future could bleed through the fabric of time under certain circumstances. People in the present might perceive these temporal feedbacks with all their senses, and in a good percentage of cases of haunted houses it was this phenomenon that was responsible for ghosts. “What circumstances are they?” he asked her.

“Oh, I don’t know. The Rift, just like in Glasgow. Atmospheric disturbances. Time travel.”

“Atmospheric disturbances like an aurora?”

“Possibly.”

“There was a beautiful one just the other night,” he said, deciding to tell her about it after all. He’d wanted to keep it to himself, a silly need to having something to himself of his own.

“You never said,” she said, sounding a bit disappointed.

“Sorry.”

“That might be worth investigating. But my money is on time travel,” Rose said.

“Time travel?”

“Yeah,” Rose said, checking the amount of milk she needed for the cookie dough she was making. She looked gorgeous with a smear of egg and flour across her cheek. He pointed his camera at her and adjusted the settings. This was just too delicious a shot to ignore. “Vortex manipulators are a bit… blundering. They create ripples, like a stone thrown into water, that echo back through time.”

“But that would mean that the time traveller always sets off in, or is headed for the same place,” Dave concluded. Dave leaned in to brush her cheek with his thumb.

Rose looked up, the milk splashing over her hands at the sudden movement. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’ve never thought of that.”

“Maybe we could ask Ed if there’s been a history of creaking sounds in that room,” Dave said, helping her clean up the mess.

The children joined them then, the film over. Their opinions on it were mixed, of course, and Dave listened to them, smiling, as they talked about it and at the same time joined Rose in her baking, making more of a mess of the kitchen. The cookies, however, tasted the better for it when they had them with hot chocolate after dinner.

“Can we find out if it’s a time traveller?” Dave asked Rose when he joined her on the sofa with a glass of wine. He had just returned from tucking Evie in and reading her a story. He sat close to her, sliding his cold hand beneath her jumper. She sucked in the air sharply.

“Why are you so keen on finding out if it’s a time traveller?” she asked. “I’m on holiday.”

His eyes went wide. “Do you still travel in time?” This was a whole new perspective. He wasn’t sure if it intrigued or terrified him.

“No, I don’t,” Rose said, cupping his slightly stubbly cheek. “We don’t have a time machine.”

“Do you know if there are any time travellers in this universe?”

She shrugged. “No, but I don’t think it’s impossible.”

“Hmm.”

“Dave?”

“Aye.”

“Why are you so upset?”

He looked at her searchingly. “I take it time travel is less advanced than jumping between universes.” Rose nodded in that way that suggested she hadn’t really thought about it before. “How come you don’t have the means to do it?”

“Who says we don’t?” Rose shot back.

He stared at her, removing his hand from beneath her jumper. His hand felt strangely empty.

“We don’t. Time travel is dangerous, more dangerous than pop culture would have you believe,” Rose said gently. “You need a degree in History if you want to survive. The past or the future are strange countries, and the culture shock can be overpowering, no matter how much you thought you knew about the time.”

He swallowed. “I was thinking about the near past.”

Rose sighed. “You’re thinking about Rita.”

It was uncanny how well she knew him, and she hadn’t even been in his mind. She had taught him how to sense her and how to close himself off to her. But what she didn’t know was that Rita wasn’t the only person he was thinking of, or seeing in his dreams. There was something, however, something very vague that kept him from telling her about his dreams. Maybe he should tell her; she always knew what to say. She’d know how to help him. He hated feeling so dependent on her already. So he settled for a simple, “Aye.”

She gathered him in her arms and held him close. “That’s the one thing I would never give you.”

“Why?” he asked, holding her tight. The only thing? Really?

“Because I asked the Doctor once if I could see my father, Over There, and I saved his life because I couldn’t help myself, and it brought the universe to the brink of annihilation. Even the Doctor was gone for a while,” Rose said, talking over his shoulder.

“Which Doctor?” It was the easiest bit he could process.

He heard Rose smile. “The U-Boat captain.”

“It’s very you. Wanting to save your Dad’s life.”

“It’s very you. Wanting to save Rita’s life,” Rose echoed. She pulled away from him.

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No need,” she said.

For a while, they sat in silence, sipping their wine and just holding hands. “It’s just that I can’t imagine what meeting the doppelgänger of a lost love one is like,” he said, enjoying the bumpy ride his fingers took over her knuckles.

“It’s weird,” she said. “When I saw you for the first time I thought you’re a version of the Doctor. But as soon as you talked to me and I got a glimpse of your personality I knew you weren’t the Doctor. You were — are — Dave Tiler. You just happen to look like someone I once knew.”

“And loved.”

“And loved. But I didn’t know him in the Biblical sense,” Rose said.

He smiled half-heartedly. “So when I first spoke —”

“You were Dave Tiler. I could see that. And the sadness in your eyes,” she said.

“Oh.”

“I recognised it from my bathroom mirror.”

He withdrew, only to return for a kiss. He felt bad for his inability to share his dreams with her.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you,” Rose began, “I’ll be happy to listen when you’re ready to share. You know that, yeah?”

Once again dave thought she was too good to be true. Didn’t she have any demons? So far Rose seemed to be dealing very well with the disappointment of the Dimension Cannon’s failure. Well, maybe apart from the small fact that she didn’t want the bairns to see her in her bathing suit. But calling her on that now would be unfair.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Thank you, Rose.”

“Come, let’s go to bed,” she said, emptying her wine glass.

The mood had shifted to something more playful. He decided to go along with it. Rose had offered him an out, and he was grateful. The graceful way of acknowledging it was moving along with her, and he did want her. It was scary how much he wanted to make love to her. He’d always fancied Rita, even after all those years, and he hoped that it would be the same with Rose.

They undressed each other without any haste, knowing that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Rose was very beautiful, even in her mismatched undies. It was an eroticism, he supposed, that was borne by their mood rather than their surroundings. He allowed her to spoil him and to take in the landscape of his body with all her senses. He tried to focus on the sound of her kisses against his skin and the rustle of her hair, as it swept his chest. It was a sensation he had almost forgotten, the warmth of it, and its fragrance as she tossed it carelessly. He inhaled its scent deeply, unable to resist burying his fingers in the golden tresses.

He cried out her name when she wrapped her lips and fingers around his cock. Torn between wanting to enjoy the pleasures of her tongue and those of her muscles rippling around him, he eventually, when it was almost too late, managed to push her away. He watched her as she rolled a condom on him, just to make absolutely sure.

“How do you want me?” she asked.

Her question rubbed something inside him the wrong way. They way she said it sounded as if he paid her for her services. “You’ve been in charge. You decide.”

She straddled him. “It’s too late for consulting the Kamasutra now.”

He felt his eyes widen and knew, to his chagrin, that she’d had him when she grinned wolfishly. He groaned as she engulfed him with her warm wetness. At the same time he thought how wonderful it would be to make love to her without the thin coat of latex between them, how wonderfully velvety she must feel. He dropped his hands to her hip and thigh. He wanted this to last.

“Do you think it’s time?”

His mind went blank.

“To try the telepathic link?”

“I’d just like you making love to me like this,” he said.

“My pleasure,” she replied, leaning forward, changing the angle and making him groan. After the kiss, she sat up and started to move in earnest. Dave groaned, but he was helpless beneath her, even if he tried to meet her strokes. He slid his hands up her torso to play with her breasts and their pointed peaks. He wanted Rose to enjoy it too. And when, eventually, she had driven them close enough to the edge and threw her head back he pressed his thumb against her clit and his palm against her mons, and she cried out in the strangled way she had. Her muscles rippled around him, and he replied to her moan with a sound of his own.


	6. Six

Week Two — The Observatory

Six

_… one of the most picturesque ruins in Scotland. Part of the castle has an air of rude strength, but other portions are more ornate, as the noble hall with ribbed vaulting._

“You haven’t pulled strings, have you?” he had asked her suspiciously the night before they left Laighgairy, looking up from his packing. The week at the lighthouse would be over soon, and all six of them were sad to leave the keeper’s cottage and the farm house. It was a great place to stay, and Rose hoped that the castle would be as terrific, not to mention living up to the glowing reviews it had gotten on its website. Rose was always a bit nervous when it came to accommodation she’d chosen for a trip. Carlinburn Castle was one of the National Heritage Trust Sites that also offered self-catering, and it had the added bonus of the observatory sharing the grounds. Murray Tiler and Glen Fowler lived in one of the mews cottages each, whereas the other staff commuted from the nearby villages. Dave told her that they’d wanted to book the self-catering flat before but had always found it unavailable.

“I might have,” Rose replied with a grin. When she saw his expression darken, she’d quickly added, “We’re not staying at the flat you’ve been thinking of. They have converted the Gardener’s House, and since they haven’t advertised it yet we’re among the first to live in it.”

“Does that mean we’re breaking it in?”

Rose just shrugged. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

Rose grinned. “You might have mentioned it in passing before.”

The children, of course, were very curious about their next holiday home. “Which part of the castle it it?” Ewan asked excitedly in the car. The children had insisted Rose chauffeur them to their granddad’s. The boy was thumbing eagerly through the battered copy of the Scotland guide he’d found at the bookshop in Laighgairy.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rose said. “It might be the dungeon.”

“Eww,” Evie protested.

“Never,” Paul said reasonably. “The flat we’ve wanted for ages is in the keep. I don’t think there’s room enough for another flat. Not for one that sleeps six. And the cottages aren’t really part of the castle, are they?”

“Well, what other parts are there?” Ewan challenged his brother.

“The palace, the servants’ quarters, the dungeon,” he listed. 

Rose said, “Getting warmer.”

“The kitchens and larder.”

“Warmer yet.”

“The stables?”

“Nah, they’re part of the mews,” Ewan protested.

“The workshops.”

“The fireplace in the smithy would make for an excellent kitchen, wouldn’t it?” Rose asked.

“Aye!” Ewan cried excitedly.

“We’re staying at the smithy?”

“No,” Rose said. “Someone added a Gardener’s House in the nineteenth century, and that’s where we are staying. They only just finished redecorating it.” 

In the rearview mirror, she could see Paul frown as he thumbed through Black’s Guide in search of the Gardener’s House. “Maybe it was still occupied in those days, which is why they didn’t list it as a sight, hmm?” she suggested.

Paul checked the publication date. “1889. Yeah, could be.”

She was following her car. Dave was driving with the help of the SatNav, and if Rose hadn’t known she could trust the _enhanced_ software she’d have doubted her boyfriend’s skills at navigating; they were taking single track roads through remote but stunningly dramatic scenery. They stopped occassionally in lay-bys to let oncoming traffic go by and so Dave could take photographs. Rose was reminded of Lucy’s interest in his art, and she wondered if she should mention it to him or leave it up to his daughter. She decided on the latter; it would have a stronger impact, make the bond stronger, if Lucy asked him herself. Rose wished, once again, that Lucy had come with them. But she’d been so excited about the trip to Venice and she deserved some time away. They all deserved a holiday.

The journey took longer than Rose had expected, and she was glad Dave had insisted they pack lunch. They ate in the middle of nowhere, in a picnic area by a diminutive loch with a deserted mansion looming on the other side. There was also a small island, hardly more than a rock with a few trees, and the children came up with stories about it almost at once. She remembered making up stories about things with her Mum too, and she wondered what had happened to the joy and lust she used to find in telling stories. She supposed that it was teen age and adulthood. All the stories were told once and then forgotten. She wasn’t one of the most creative people in the world. The stuff of legend, yes, but certainly more when it came to creating those legends as a protagonist. The Doctor had shown her that. Maybe Dave’s children would be the kind that would carry the tradition into adulthood.

It was early afternoon when they finally pulled into the parking lot of the castle. Murray was already waiting for them, having been alerted of their imminent arrival by one of the kids. They hadn’t seen their grandfather in a while, and if they could have opened the car doors, they’d have jumped out before Rose had the chance to properly stop. Ewan, whose turn it was that day in the front passenger seat quickly opened the door for Paul so they could fling themselves at their grandpa. Evie squealed in protest, fiddling with the catch of the safety belt.

Rose liberated her and then stood back a little, watching, waiting for the family to greet each other with lots of hugs and excited chatter. Dave gave his father a long hug, obviously glad to be able to be a child for a few moments. Murray seemed to be in his sixties, and he looked like an older version of Dave. They were both tall and thin, and Dave had his father’s nose and mouth, but later Rose learned that Dave had his mother’s eyes. It was interesting to get a glimpse of Dave in twenty-five years’ time. _What are you thinking?_ Rose scolded herself. _Getting ahead of yourself much?_

“Rose! Rose, come and meet grandpa!” Evie said, tugging at her hand. The boys introduced Lottie, and Rose noticed that she and Murray were chatting in German. Murray was almost fluent; she hadn’t known that.

“Grandpa! Look, this is Rose!” Evie cried excitedly when he had finally finished his sentence and Lottie had no response. Murray’s eyes were a pale grey, and they sparkled with fierce intelligence and joy. He was nothing at all like the hermit scientist she had envisioned.

He took her hand and shook it firmly. “My pleasure. I’m Murray, the tallest lad’s Dad.”

Rose laughed. The first few moments of meeting someone new were always a bit awkward because people reacted so very differently when they recognised her or fully grasped who she was. “Rose.”

He gave her a brief appraising glance. “You’re the director of Torchwood now? They have finally given up the Glasgow camp and made it something proper. Best decision in ages.”

“It was a very good decision,” Rose agreed wholeheartedly.

Dave wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and Murray’s glance shifted to his son. Rose had no idea about what kind of relationship Murray and Rita had had. She’d meant to ask, just to see where she stood, but apparently Dave’s Dad didn’t think of her as an intruder in the family.

“Holly has prepared some refreshments in the café. She’s looking forward to meeting you,” Murray announced, grasping Dave’s upper arm. “Then she’ll show you the flat.”

“Dad, I’ve got to pee,” Evie said, tugging at his hand.

“It’s just inside,” Murray said, pointing ahead of them to the conservatory that had been added to the reconstructed part of the palace. Lottie, who said she needed the loo as well, took her by the hand and they skipped ahead.

“It’s so good to be here again, Dad,” Dave said, and Rose could see the tension melt off him. His nightmares tore her apart, but she decided not to approach him about them. Rose was worried, however, that he’d hold back and decide not to tell her for fear of — what exactly? Seeming weak to her?

They went into the café that was moderately busy with visitors to both the castle and the observatory across the road. Nevertheless, Holly Fraser, an attractive woman whose age was difficult to pin down, welcomed them warmly and took her time to feed and water them and answer all the children’s excited questions. It turned out Holly Fraser was the manager of the site. She seemed a little reticent at the beginning, but she soon warmed to Evie’s charm. She was very lady-like, Rose found, like one of her Dad’s business partners, with refined manners and a carefully assembled outfit. Evie, of course, was fascinated by her greying red hair and the countless freckles darkening her fair complexion.

“Miss Tyler,” Holly said, shaking her hand a bit stiffly. “It’s such an honour to have you with us. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

“I’m sure I will,” Rose said. “It is lovely here.”

“I had no idea it was you who booked the Gardener’s House. If I’d known you were coming ,” she didn’t finish her sentence.

“Oh, please don’t worry, Holly. I’m not here on business. Not strictly speaking, anyway,” Rose said.

“I’m here partly on business,” Dave said. “I’m taking photos for the Heritage Trust Fund. Bringing the bairns made things easier.”

“Yes, Murray told me. I’m so sorry for your loss, Dave,” Holly said. Dave tensed a little at the condolences, but he seemed to be able to deal with them. 

“Thank you.”

-:-

The Gardener’s Cottage was situated away from the main complex of the castle, and it had its own gate and parking so residents weren’t disturbed by visitors as they ambled through the gardens. It was perfect for the children, Rose thought. Apart from the playground for visitors there was also enough space behind the Gardener’s House, where the historical garden had not yet been recreated to give the occupants of the house some privacy. The boys discovered the lawn for their football games, and before Rose knew it, Dave, Murray and the boys were kicking the ball around. It had been a long journey and they needed to stretch their legs and work off some of their pent-up energy.

“Murray is great,” Lottie said, watching them as Rose joined her with a tray of glasses and juice. All of the boys were in a heap on the grass, a wild tumble of flailing limbs and laughter and guffaws. She’d never seen them like this.

“Yeah, he is. I was a bit nervous about meeting him,” Rose said.

“Why?”

“I’ve never met my lover’s father before,” Rose said.

Lottie’s eyes went wide. “You haven’t?”

Rose shook her head. “Also, I grew up without a father, so my lovers never had to meet him either. So… they are like an alien species to me.”

That eased the tension and Lottie laughed. “Has Dave met your… father here?”

Rose shook her head. “We haven’t had a chance yet. Dad’s very busy, and you know how it is with Dave.”

Lottie nodded. “Dads should know their rivals, though.”

She guffawed. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Can I ask… what is it like to love the spitting images of your… lost love and your father?”

Rose gestured for them to sit on the patio chairs. She hadn’t expected Lottie to ask such candid questions, but Rose liked that about her. Besides, her life with the Morris children was a bit more complicated than her initial job description, so Rose decided to tell her. “You have to get past the looks and see what makes them a person. It’s hard not to compare, but Dave and the Doctor couldn’t be any more different. And Dad… well, he’s this universe’s Pete Tyler. He’s different. And I was a baby when he died over there. It was a road accident.”

“Too? Just like Rita,” Lottie said.

Rose had never thought about it. “I went back to meet him. With the Doctor. I nearly destroyed the universe.”

“Oh. Did you see yourself too?”

“Yeah. It must was one of the strangest things I’ve seen. And I couldn’t touch her,” Rose mused. 

“Who couldn’t you touch?” Evie asked. She had been watching the game from the far side of the garden and came for a glass of juice. She sat beside Lottie and carefully poured herself some juice after Rose had pushed the jug towards her.

“A baby,” Lottie said. “You always have to ask permission first.”

“Why didn’t the mum want you to touch the baby?” Evie asked.

“It was dangerous. A Torchwood thing,” Rose explained.

Evie’s eyes went wide. “Was there a happy ending?”

Was there? “Yeah,” Rose said.

“Good.”

Murray had to go back to the observatory, but after he left Holly picked them up to give them the grand tour. Dave took copious notes again. Since it was a beautiful day he decided to make the most of it and work that night. He also took some quick photos, including a few of the children. By this time it was late in the afternoon and they ran into very few visitors, but those they saw gave them puzzled glances, and Rose thought that one of them had recognized her. She tried to act normal; maybe she could fool this person into thinking that she was someone else. After all, Rose Tyler didn’t have a family of her own.

Murray invited them over for dinner, and although the children were more than keen on visiting the observatory that very night, they put it off until the next day because it became soon obvious that they were exhausted. Evie even fell asleep on her grandfather’s sofa and Dave carried her to the house and put her to bed without her even waking when he undressed her.

“Are you going to undress me too?” Rose asked when he joined her in their bedroom. Its design was very modern, but still it looked warm and welcoming.

“We’ll have to be more careful here,” Dave murmured as he began to tug her shirt off. “They might hear us.”

All the bedrooms were located on the first floor, and Dave had observed that it was a huge place even for a gardener and his family. Luckily, the en-suites separated their room from Lottie’s on this side of the hall; the children’s rooms were on the other side.

“Oh, that might be a challenge,” Rose whispered, nibbling at his lower lip as he worked on the fastenings of her jeans. 

“You’re very quiet when we make love. Where’s the challenge in that?” he asked, sliding his hand inside the front of her knickers without warning. Rose gasped as he cupped and probed her folds with his fingers. He moved to stand beside her the better to touch her.

“Would you rather I screamed?” she asked.

“Nah. It doesn’t suit you. You’re not a porn star,” he said. He began to move his fingers, and Rose bit her lip when he slid two of them inside her. It was embarrassing how wet she was already. 

“Maybe we should try without talking. In the dark,” Rose suggested, trying to keep her breathing calm. She’d noticed that the blinds shut out most of the ambient light.

Dave pouted as he rested his forehead against hers. “But I love watching you. You’re so beautiful when you come. Drives me over the edge every time.” He brushed his thumb over her clit and Rose wanted to gasp; somehow she managed to keep her mouth shut. Instead, the gasp hummed through her body.

“Not seeing sharpens the other senses,” she said when she trusted herself to speak again.

“True,” Dave said. He withdrew his hand rather suddenly and took his time licking his fingers, locking his eyes on hers. _Two can play at that game,_ Rose thought. She grabbed his hand and sucked his thumb into her mouth. Dave rewarded her with a moan.

“Ha!”

“You’re sneaky,” he protested.

“Yeah, because touching me where it counts without warning isn’t,” Rose scoffed.

“I can’t resist you.”

“Then finish what you’ve started. No lights, no talking,” Rose said. 

“All right,” he agreed. “Is moaning okay?”

“Yeah.”

He went to turn off the lights, and the darkness in the room was complete. Even after their eyes had adjusted, there was so little ambient light that it was hard to see more than shadows move in the dark. Rose stood still but held her hands out for him as she heard him begin to move. The floorboards creaked softly beneath his weight, and then their hands collided. He felt up her arms to draw her into an embrace. As they kissed, their movements soon became more passionate and urgent when they realised that touch and soft sounds were the only way they could communicate from now on. 

He opened her bra and slid his hands down her torso to brush off her knickers, and from there he ran his fingers along her legs to remove her socks. He slid his hand up the inside of her leg so she widened her stance. He fastened his mouth over her sex. She hummed and held on to his shoulders. At one point he hooked her left leg over his shoulder for better access and Rose wanted to moan but she held back. This was going to be pretty intense, and she knew she’d come with a scream.

Dave lapped at her and played with her until her leg began to buckle and she began to lose her balance. He caught her and moved her backwards against the bed, taking her by her waist to help her sit. She batted him away as he was about to return to finish what he had started. It was his turn now. 

Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, touching him more than she usually did when she took his clothes off. They really needed to do this more often. When she had him naked she did not take him in her mouth, even when she felt the damp tip against her cheek.

Dave touched her cheek in question, and for a moment she did not have an answer. He was right. Watching each other was very important; she loved to see the lust in his face as well when she sucked him. She ran her hands all over his torso, enjoying the feel of skin against skin, and the soft rustling sound it created. Dave was breathing evenly, and she felt him relax beneath her hands. Time to go in for the kill.

She took him into her mouth as deeply as she could.

Dave cried out.

She took his hand as he slid his other one into her hair. Their hands were palm to palm, and he gave her a squeeze. It was painful and she mewled in protest. His fingers relaxed at once. She let him slide out of her mouth and took a deep breath. Then she held him at the base and began pleasuring him in earnest, and when he came, it was with a suddenness and so much come that she thought she couldn’t take it all. But all that she could hear was a restrained groan, and she felt him tremble.

Somehow she managed to pull him onto the bed with her as he slumped, breathing heavily. A giggle escaped her. He replied with a hum, and she knew he was grinning.

Rose clamped her hand over her mouth to stop the words from escaping.

Dave grunted when his lips encountered her knuckles instead of her lips, and he pushed her hand away as he claimed her mouth again. Rose’s eyes went wide. He’d never kissed her so soon after he’d come in her mouth. He made a soft sound, paused to take in their taste, then kissed her even more deeply. Rose almost came at the idea that he liked it, and at the passion with which he kissed her. He was a damn good kisser. 

And he was growing hard again. _Already?_

She twisted away from him. She needed him now, but she also needed to get the condom she had hidden under the pillow earlier. Putting it on might be a challenge in the dark, but she was sure that Dave would manage. Besides, it was just an additional precaution; they would be fine without it.

She grabbed his wrist and pressed the foil packet into his palm, closing his fingers around it. There was a moment’s silence in which all she could hear was their breathing and the slide of skin against skin and linen. Then he tore the wrapper and she pictured him rolling the latex over his cock. The urge to tell him to hurry was almost overwhelming. She shifted, spreading her legs, never letting go of his wrist to give him guidance.

And then he was above her. He moved swiftly but carefully so as not to hit her. _This is what you called practised ease,_ she supposed. She moaned. She _needed_ him. He guided the tip of his cock to her folds and moved a little to tease and warn her. Warn her because when he sank into her it was with one swift stroke that stretched her all at once. 

Rose groaned softly, feeling the vibrations ripple through her.

She could feel his balls against her bum when he finally held still. He was heavy on top of her, hairy, warm, so very close. Sticky. Oh and his smell. So… earthy. She kissed him clumsily and he rewarded her with a moan. With her hands on his shoulders she encouraged him to move, letting him know that she was all right, that she needed him.

He set a rhythm of deep, slow strokes, and she reached between them to build her own orgasm. He never liked it much when she did that, so when he hooked her leg over his elbow to change the angle she withdrew her hand. It was just perfect.

Particularly when she arched into him. His lips found her nipple and he closed them around it, sucking, swirling his tongue around it as if it were her clit. The pleasure was instantaneous, and it shot to her sex.

Rose came with a low moan, the unbearableness of it all crashing in upon itself, burying her beneath a thick, warm layer of sweaty, panting Dave, his groan ringing in her ears. She could feel him pulse inside her, pump once twice more, and she tightened her muscles around him to prolong his pleasure.

His puffs of breath felt good against her shoulder, and she wondered if he could feel her heart beating against his chest as well. Hers was so well-hidden, well-protected.

Without a word he withdrew and she heard him rummage around, find tissues and run them over his groin. Then he returned to her, pulling the covers over them and turning towards her for a cuddle. There was no room for words now.


	7. Seven

Seven

Dave's eyes flew open to complete darkness. It took him a while to slow his breathing, and he rolled onto his back to control it better. He had no idea where Rose was in the geography of their bed so he he hoped his rolling over hadn’t disturbed her. It was still dark outside, and he had no idea how long he'd slept. He wasn't sure if his body was still singing in post-orgasmic haze because he'd only napped, or if, indeed, his orgasm had been so strong that he could feel its lingering effects even after a decent amount of sleep. Either way, it hadn't been enough to protect him from his nightmare. 

Its protagonists were the same, but the setting had started to change. He saw Rita lying on the guerney in A&E, and his childhood imagination of Snow White supplied her with snowy white skin, ebony hair... a trickle of unnaturally red blood that coming from her nose. Paul was standing next to her, reaching for her hand, and he could hear himself scream "No!" afraid that if he touched her, she'd take him with her. Blood was streaming from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. And then, suddenly, his Mum appeared and broke the spell. He woke violently, breathing hard.

"Dave, love," Rose whispered. Chagrined, he closed his eyes against the darkness, which seemed immeasurably softer as soon as it was filled with her voice. His nightmare had stolen her sleep as well. She didn't switch on the light. "You've been dreaming again."

It was the 'again' that broke his heart, and he hated himself for his weakness. How did she do it? Rose had probably seen enough to fill a whole book of nightmares, yet she slept soundly beside him. Either she was a lot stronger than he'd thought, she had a heart of stone (which he knew she didn't), or she was only ever tormented by her experiences in private, when he wasn't with her. If the latter was the case — what was going to happen to all those pent-up dreams she was no doubt going to have in the next fortnight? What about the ones she'd already had? At one point they would demand her full attention. The notion of their force when they finally wouldn’t be ignored any longer made him shiver.

"I'm sorry," he croaked. "Don't you ever have any?" His words came out more reproachfully than he'd intended.

"All the time," Rose replied. She sounded surprisingly young. He decided not to switch on the light. They had started something new, created something new when they'd made love quietly in the dark. He was glad that the thou-shalt-not-speak rule didn't apply any more.

"But they don't rouse you," he pointed out.

She didn't reply, but her silence spoke volumes. Apparently, she did wake from her dreams, but he never noticed.

"I curl up to you, and you put your arm around me," Rose said. "Try it." The covers rustled as she lifted them so he could roll over. As he did so, he also slid down a little and rested his head against her shoulder, his hand inadvertently cupping her breast. She hummed in appreciation and drew him closer, her fingers drawing idle patterns on his arm. He moved his hand so it rested just above her heart. With her free hand, Rose adjusted the covers over them.

Her heart was beating faster than it should.

"Am I that bad?" he asked.

"Whaddaya mean?"

"We're sharing a bed and I don't even notice when you have a bad dream."

Rose dropped a kiss onto his head and inhaled the smell of his hair. He wondered what it was that she liked so much about it that she regularly buried her nose in it. "I don't have them every night. And I'm glad you don't wake. It's bad enough that your own bad dreams have that kind of power over you." She covered his hand with hers.

"Tell me about them," he said.

"Not tonight, my love. This is about you, not me."

"I can't tell you," he said.

He felt Rose's chest expand as she drew a deep breath. "Whenever you're ready," she said.

"Thank you." The words didn't even begin to cover his gratitude for her generosity and her patience, particularly since his dreams obviously upset her so much. "Thank you, Rose." He shifted to kiss her wherever he could reach of her in the darkness.

-:-

As always, his work helped take his mind off things. The key Holly had given him for the Gardener’s House unlocked the grounds, but she had also entrusted him with the keys to the museum, which was usually only accessible with staff present. Sometimes he wished he had an assistant to help him set up the lighting, but he’d found in the past few days that he enjoyed working by himself. 

He’d gone back to sleep in Rose’s arms, and it had been uninterrupted by further dreams. Rose was right, however. He needed to talk about what he saw in them, but he had no words to describe the terror with which the images filled him. Seeing Rita and Paul like that was pretty upsetting as it was, but the sense of impending loss, the lack of air, the cold inside him, were beyond description.

He ran his hand through his hair as he changed the settings on his camera. Last night, Mum had entered his dreams. He hadn’t seen her. He had sensed her presence, had known she was there. The idea of what she might look like in the dream made the cold spread in the pit of his stomach.

He also wondered why Rose wasn’t in his dreams. Was it because he hadn’t known her long enough? He’d nearly lost her, long before he even imagined being with her, but when he closed his eyes his memory provided him with a startlingly clear image of her lying on the glistening, rough tarmac, groaning with pain and bleeding.

He exhaled, the rush of air accompanied by an almost sob-like sound to purge the image. 

Dave finished the shooting in the museum, and after locking it up carefully, he moved to the parts that were accessible with the cottage keys. This was a fantastic playground for the children, he realised, and it seemed a perfectly safe one too. Looking up, he noticed the shifting light and hurried down the winding staircase in the northeast tower to capture the early-morning light as it bathed the grey stones of the Gardener’s House in its glorious glow. The shutters of all the bedrooms were closed, making the house look a bit forbidding, but the colours were just too beautiful to miss. He went on to take a few shots of the roses in the garden with the castle in the background, and a few more of the dramatic mountain scenery. Before he knew it, he was done and he packed away the bigger pieces of his equipment in Rose’s car.

“Paul,” he said in surprise as he rounded the cottage with only his bag slung over his shoulder. His son was standing in the kitchen door, clad only in his pyjamas, but he looked very awake. “How long have you been standing here?” Reaching him, he cupped his cheek. It was cool.

“A while,” Paul said, knowing there was no point in reassuring his father.

“You’ll catch a cold, come inside,” Dave said, gently nudging him to turn and precede him into the black-and-white tiled hall. Paul wasn’t even wearing his slippers. Dave dropped his bag onto the bench and ushered him into the kitchen, where he made him sit on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. He filled the kettle and opened several cabinets in the strange kitchen to find mugs and tea. While the kettle was boiling Dave sat on the stool next to Paul and picked up his feet to give them a rub for warmth. Paul leaned back for balance, but he withdrew his feet immediately when the kettle clicked off. Dave smiled at him and stood to make them a pre-breakfast cuppa.

“I hate it when you’re out taking photos,” Paul blurted as Dave spooned sugar into their drinks.

“What?” He looked up.

“I always wait for you to come back,” Paul said.

Dave wanted to tell him that for this morning’s shoot he didn’t even have to cross the street because it was beside the point. Then he realised what Paul was trying to tell him. Of all his bairns, so far he had been the one who seemed to cope with his grief best. He’d talked with Ewan, Evie was acting it all out with Amy (which didn’t excuse him from sitting down with her for a wee chat), and Lucy finally seemed to open up and come and find him or Rose when she couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Dave studied the contents of his mug as he stirred it longer than necessary. “Would you like to come with me?” He really enjoyed the alone time in the mornings and after tea, but he wouldn’t mind Paul’s quiet, supportive company. “Do you think that would help?”

Paul relaxed a bit. “Aye. Maybe not all the time, but… yeah, I’d like that. Unless I’d get in the way.”

Dave left the mugs where they were and went to his son to gather him in his arms. Even when he was upset and needed comforting he was supportive and considerate. Dave wondered who he got that from. “You’d never get in the way, Paul.”

Paul returned the hug and burrowed into him. Dave buried his nose in his tousled hair and pressed a kiss onto his head. He hated himself for assuming that just because Paul was a naturally quiet boy he was also strong and capable of dealing with his grief and fear by himself. His faith probably did give him a lot of strength. At the end of the day he was only twelve years old. No child that age should carry so much responsibility. The feeling of being a shit father wrapped itself around his heart like a layer of ice. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his boy’s hair.

“I just miss her so much, and I…” Paul began, pulling back so he could look at him as he finally opened up. “I… I nearly died too.”

Dave swallowed hard. Paul hadn’t nearly died. He had been dead for a few awful moments that felt like a small eternity. There was no way he could tell him that, but he also needed to know what was going on his mind. “You didn’t. You fought to come back to us.”

“Mum was there.”

Dave stiffened.

“I dream of her all the time. But when I was in hospital she was there with me.”

Dave closed his eyes. What could he possibly say to encourage him without pressuring him? He wasn’t sure he could have this conversation without breaking down himself, but he knew they needed to have it. It was amazing how much he missed Rita, despite having found Rose.

“She was just there. She had that look she has when she’s really disappointed with one of us,” Paul continued.

Dave knew that look. It had been more punishing than her worst tempers. “It’s not your fault, Paul. You had an accident.” It was true. It had been a terrible accident. He couldn’t even blame much-hated Torchwood for it, because they were only human. The irony of it. Again he wondered what he had gotten himself and his family into when he’d found and fallen for Rose. He wished, sometimes, she’d never had to reveal her true occupation to him, that he’d always believe she was the Vitex Heiress in charge of The National Heritage Trust. But that was, of course, impossible.

“Aye, but I’m supposed to be the grown-up one.”

“What?”

“She told me once. That all of us, I’m the most grown-up and sensible one.”

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Dave hated Rita. It was a physical jolt, a pain that shot through him, burning away the ice around his heart. How could she burden a twelve-year-old with this? Apparently, she’d had no idea what she’d done to Paul with those words. She’d probably meant to praise him, but instead she had encumbered him with unreasonable expectations.

“You are, and I am very proud of you,” Dave said. “But. That doesn’t mean that you cannot come and to talk to me when you need to. It doesn’t mean you have to deal with everything by yourself. It’s okay to ask for help.” What a terrible fraud he was. He ought to heed his own advice and tell Rose about his nightmares.

“Aye.”

“You’re supposed to be my wee boy,” Dave said, his voice close to cracking with emotion. “You can always come and talk to me.”

Paul nodded.

“I’m sure Mum wasn’t disappointed that you got sick. She’d understand it wasn’t your fault. I think she was heartbroken that you were going to join her so soon after she... left us. Aye?”

“Aye.”

“She didn’t want you with her because you’re too wee, yeah?” Dave’s nose itched. _You’re just a child. You’re_ my _child, and I love you_. “I love you. And Mum did too. It broke her heart to see you in the hospital. She didn’t want you to join her yet. It was too soon.”

“Dad.” Paul wrapped his arms around him again and held tight to him. How small his boy felt in his arms. If he could, Dave thought, he’d wrap each of his children in cotton wool, and protect them forever. Paul was crying, and he held him, absorbing his shudders until he had cried himself out. Dave picked him up and carried him to the sofa in the adjacent lounge, where he lay him down and covered him with a blanket. Heaven knew when he’d gotten up to watch out for him, for his safe return. None of his bairns should have to fear for his safe return.

-:-

At breakfast proper, Paul seemed very much like his kind, quiet self. But when their eyes locked over passing the butter or the jam, Dave knew that they had connected on a deeper level that morning, and he smiled at him. He was going to repeat his offer that night, and he hoped Paul would take him up on it and want to join him. He’d been thinking just that morning how he could use some help setting up the lights, so this was perfect. But he also didn’t want to take advantage of Paul’s need to be close to him.

“How was this morning’s shoot?” Rose asked, sipping the second mug of coffee that morning after they had sent the bairns out to play. She had picked up on their mood, and Dave had to remind himself that she hadn’t been in his mind.

“It was good,” he said, more cheerfully than he felt.

“You aren’t angry with me?”

“Why would I be angry with you?” The answer occurred to him just as he asked the question. “If anyone I should be angry with myself.”

“You can’t help your nightmares, my love.”

“I indulge them. I ought to be taking care of you and of the children,” he said.

Rose stared at him, and he returned her gaze with confusion. He was just about to ask if he’d offended her in any way when she said, “You should be sharing them.”

He took a deep breath. “I know. I can’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“I’m here whenever you’re ready, yeah? Or talk to someone else, but please talk to someone,” Rose said.

“What about your own?” he asked softly.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I worry about you all the time,” he said, taking her hand.

She cupped his cheek and smiled gently at him, “Don’t. I’m fine.”

He leaned in for a kiss. He didn’t believe her, but he kissed her anyway because there wasn’t anything else he could do. “I love you.”

This time, the smile really reached Rose’s eyes. “And I love you.”

-:-

His Dad picked them up later to give them a guided tour of the Observatory. Ewan and Evie were disappointed that they couldn’t see anything through the telescope, and it took a lot of work to convince them that they’d come back later, when it was dark, to have a look at the night sky.

“The sky is spectacular these days,” Murray said. “We can see the aurora borealis quite clearly.”

“What’s that?”

“The Northern Lights, or the Merry Dancers. It’s coloured ribbons of light that dance across the night sky,” he explained to Evie.

“Why?”

“Because there is a storm around the sun, and the wind carries tiny little bits we can’t see, particles, to Earth, and when they touch the atmosphere they turn the sky colourful.”

Evie looked to Rose for confirmation. Rose blushed and nodded.

“Are you an astronomer as well?” Murray asked Rose.

“No,” Rose said. “It’s just something I’ve read about. Somewhere. A long time ago. It came up recently.”

Paul asked something about the telescope to distract him. Dave was at once grateful and gutted about his son’s reaction. He was thinking ahead again, taking care when he wasn’t supposed to because he was only a twelve-year-old. “We’ll come back tonight, yeah?” Dave said.

“Oh, you don’t have to come to the observatory to admire the aurora,” Murray said, “but I can show you a lot of other things. The craters of the moon. Venus. And some other planets.”

“Great!” Paul said with more enthusiasm than Dave was sure he felt, but he was also amazed at the genuine interest behind the reply.


	8. Eight

Eight

The aurora was truly stunning. The threads of green and red undulate in the clear Scottish night sky. It really looked like a brush being dipped into a jar of water and the colour washing out and bleeding into the water, like smoke in air. Only the threads never dissolved but moved about in the air. She wondered why the Doctor had never shown her the aurora; true, she had seen other wonders of the universe, but why hadn’t he opened her eyes to the beauty that was right here, on her doorstep?

She wrapped her arms around herself as a shiver coursed through her despite the coat she was wearing. It wasn’t a shiver caused by the cool night air, however. Her gaze dropped from the colourful night sky to the figures sitting huddled on the bench around Dave, bundled up against the chill in their coats and blankets Murray had brought out. Holly Fraser had joined them as well, and from the way she was invading Murray’s personal space, it was clear they were a couple. When he’d introduced Holly, however, their relationship had appeared completely professional. They were really good.

Rose smiled. She knew that Dave was an only child and that he had lost his Mum at a tender age, so she was glad that his Dad had found love again. Once again, she was taken aback by how similar their emotional worlds were, despite all the differences. They had each lost a parent at a young age, each lost the love of their life and fought a continuing battle against their own demons. Rose wondered what Dave’s nightmares were about. It was obvious that the _Emptiness Folder_ alone wasn’t enough to help him keep his equilibrium, but she understood the need to keep the disturbing images from his dreams to himself, but she also knew that they would need out sooner or later. The Doctor had long been inaccessible to her, and only at the very end had he begun to open up to her, letting her glimpse what his life could be. Wherever he was, she hoped that he had found someone else to travel with him to keep his loneliness at bay, and to stop him if needs be. He hadn’t scared her often, but the times he did she was left to wonder if she knew the man she loved at all. 

Rose jumped a little when Murray nudged her gently and held a steaming mug of tea out for her. Where he’d conjured that up from she couldn’t tell. Or at least how, because she hadn’t noticed either him or Holly leave. “Here, lassie, something to warm you up.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him in the dark and wrapped her freezing fingers around the warm ceramic. Slowly, as blood returned into her digits, the heat from the mug began to feel uncomfortable and she took the mug by its handle.

“Join me for a few steps?” Murray asked. Surprised, Rose nodded and they walked away from the others, out of earshot. She was beginning to wonder what this was about when Murray said, “You make Dave happy.”

Rose nearly choked on her last sip.

“It’s true. I liked Rita, don’t get me wrong. But she wasn’t good for him. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I have the impression she was a bit… bossy,” she said.

Murray chuckled softly. “Aye. One shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. But one could say she had a tendency to walk all over Dave sometimes.”

Rose frowned. If he was warning her not to break his son’s heart, he wasn’t very subtle about it. She appreciated the protectiveness because Dave deserved to be respected; he was such a kind and considerate soul himself. “I know.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Rose,” Murray continued. “I really like you. But you are who you are. I’m not judging you on that. I just want you to be careful with my boy.”

“I lost the love of my life too,” Rose said, decided that honesty was probably something Murray would appreciate. “I know what he’s going through.”

Murray nodded slowly. “I must seem like a right eejit.”

“I know where you’re coming from. My Mum and Dad are concerned too.”

“Are they now,” Murray said.

Rose decided to tell him that Dave looked like the man she had loved and lost, deciding that for now this bit of information was enough. Given Dave’s reaction to anything Torchwood she wanted to be careful around Murray. She also had no idea how much Dave had told him about the Illness. Murray gave her a shrewd look and nodded. “You’re not going to break his heart, love.”

And that was that. 

-:-

Rose and Dave went to bed together, warming each other up as they snuggled beneath the covers. They had stayed up a lot longer than usual, watching the aurora and taking turns looking at the treasures of the universe through the huge, state-of-the-art telescope at the Observatory. They hadn’t left until Evie started to fall asleep on her feet. Even the boys had only protested feebly, and their grandfather’s suggestion that the weather would remain good and they come back the next night was enough to appease them.

“I like your Dad,” Rose whispered in the darkness.

Dave grunted in acknowledgement.

“I suppose that if you had a brother or a sister they’d have warned me not to hurt you. So he did,” she continued.

“He didnae,” Dave said, suddenly very alert.

“It’s okay. I find it endearing,” she said, and it was true. “I suppose he had to. My parents are worried too.”

“It was bad enough that Anna behaved the way she did,” Dave said.

“She was in an entirely different league,” Rose said, regretting that she had started the conversation. “Besides, it’s very good to see that they love and want to protect you, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” he said thoughtfully, caressing her arm where she had draped it over his chest. “It’s good that you still like all of my folks.”

“Who of them knows about Torchwood?” she asked. It wasn’t exactly bedtime discussion, but considering her conversation with Murray she felt she needed to know what he knew.

“That you’re the director of Torchwood Glasgow?” Dave asked. “Dad knows, and so do Anna, Robin, Beattie and Sarah.”

“What about Stuart?”

“No. He’s not on my list of confidants. But my family are.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always, my love.”

“Why didn’t Murray come to see Paul?”

Dave’s chest fell dramatically as he exhaled. “I didn’t want him to.”

“Why?” Rose couldn’t imagine why Dave wouldn’t want his very supportive, kind Dad with him in times of such a difficult time, particularly since he had been so reluctant to trust Torchwood, and her if she was honest, to heal Paul.

“I didn’t want him to see Paul die,” he said. “He loves the bairns to bits. It would have broken his heart to see him paralysed, bleeding and in a coma.”

Rose snaked her arm around his torso as far as she could reach and pulled him close to her. She could understand that, even though she thought that Murray would have been a great support to his son. A dreadful idea popped up in her mind. “He wasn’t there after Rita died, was he?”

Again, Dave took a deep breath, but he adjusted his grip around her too. “No. I was scared that if he came I’d crumble into a pathetic heap of misery, unable to pick myself up and keep going.”

“Was that what happened after your Mum died?” Rose asked tentatively.

“No. Dad was… heartbroken, but he managed to take care of himself, and of me. I don’t know how he did it. We’ve never talked about it,” he said.

“Hmm.”

They fell silent for a while, but from his breathing she could tell that he hadn’t fallen asleep. “Mum died in a car accident,” Dave said eventually. “She didn’t die right away. But her injuries were so severe that she passed away a few days later, despite a couple of operations.”

Rose didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t even able to gasp because it would have sounded pathetic. She couldn’t begin to imagine what losing the two most important women in his life so suddenly, and violently, meant to him. And then he’d found her after an equally horrible event, bleeding and hallucinating in the street. What’s more, she refused to have her scars removed. She’d never thought about what that fact might do to him, because all she’d ever cared about was what they meant to her. They were a reminder of her loss and of her mulish stubbornness. She could only begin to imagine how Rita’s accident affected Murray. Had he relived his late wife’s accident, the memories and grief triggered by his son’s? So it wasn’t entirely about Dave’s fear of breaking down completely; he’d also wanted to protect Murray. Rose’s heart clenched at the realisation, but she didn’t know if or how to share this thought with him. She decided not to say anything.

“Do you know,” he continued as if he’d read her mind, “she was on her way to pick me up from a photography class when it happened. It was a fine day, she wasn’t in a hurry. We still don’t know why her car veered off the road.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose said eventually. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, my love. I just wanted you to know.”

“Thank you for telling me. It makes it easier for me to see where you’re coming from. And I understand your nightmares better,” she said, scared of asking him if he felt guilty for his mother’s death. 

“I do blame myself,” Dave offered as if he’d sensed her thoughts. “But I know that it’s silly because all evidence points to the fact that the accident was completely… a complete mystery.”

“Oh.” Rose’s heart constricted. In her experience that meant that somehow Torchwood was involved, although they made it a point now to come up with a plausible explanation when the case was too alien.

“Do you think you could… do some research?” Dave asked after a while. Apparently, he had given these things some thought. “It’s not that I’m blaming you. I’m just looking for an explanation.”

“You want closure,” she said. “Of course I will. But you know, it might be similar to finding Lucy’s Dad.”

He didn’t replay at once. “I’m aware of that.”

“Are you sure you want to me look? I will, if you want me to. I just don’t want you to hurt any more. Have you discussed it with Murray?”

“Aye. He wants to know as well.”

Rose sighed. She didn’t like the idea at all, but she felt she owed Dave an explanation. “So your dislike for Torchwood isn’t only based on losing Miles to the Daleks.” She’d thought when he told her that his reply didn’t do the strength of his aversion justice.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to want to blame old Torchwood for everything bad and inexplicable. But it has caused me a lot of grief, even if your people saved everyone in the end,” he said. “For which I’m very grateful.”

“Of course you are,” she said sincerely.

“Rose?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we not talk about this any more, please? At least not tonight.”

“Of course, my love,” she said, kissing his pec.

-:-

When she woke in the middle of the night, she was alone in the bed. She must have been for a while, because she’d shamelessly hogged the covers and moved to the middle of the bed, like she did when she slept by herself. “Dave?” she mumbled drowsily, not really expecting an answer.

She sat up, brushing her hair back and pushing her feet into the hideous pair of papery slippers she had to use because she’d forgotten hers in the farm house. She went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Passing the lounge, she saw a shadow that wasn’t supposed to be there. Adrenalin started pumping through her system at once, and all thought of going back to bed quickly was gone.

“Dave?”

The shadow turned, and she could hear him sigh. She went to sit beside him on the sofa and took his hand. It was cold. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“I’m trying to go back to sleep,” he said.

“What? Here? Come back to bed, love,” she said. “I was just getting myself a glass of water.”

“You go ahead, I’ll be there in a few.”

“You’re icy, Dave,” she protested. It was obvious he had been dreaming again, but after the discussion they’d had before going to sleep she didn’t have it in her to have another potentially upsetting conversation with him. They really needed to talk, and soon. Dave wasn’t getting enough sleep because of his crazy work schedule anyway, so sitting up here in the middle of the night was unacceptable.

“It’s… please, Rose. Give me just a few more minutes, aye?”

“I’m coming to get you,” she said good-naturedly, but she trusted he knew her well enough to take her seriously. She kissed his temple, went to the kitchen to fill each of them a glass of water and took them upstairs. She plumped up their pillows and straightened the sheets, hiding a couple of condoms beneath her pillow. Then she took her phone off the charger, switched off the socket and checked the time on her watch. Just when she was about to go downstairs to get Dave, she could hear him slowly climb the stairs.

“I can see them all in my dreams. Rita, Paul and Mum,” he said without preamble. “It’s not a horrible dream. It’s just very upsetting and disturbing. I can see Rita the way she looked when I saw her in A&E. She was already dead. I had no chance to say goodbye to her when she might still have noticed my presence.”

Rose’s heart skipped a beat. Her father had died in her arms, but only because the Doctor had indulged her. Without knowing it, she had asked for closure, and the Doctor had given her a gift that one rarely got. She had appreciated it at the time, particularly because she’d been appalled at the consequences of her selfishness, and amazed at the lengths the Doctor was ready to go to to make her happy. His forgiveness was the greatest gift of it all, and one of the most valuable, if painful, lessons he’d ever taught her.

“Come here,” she said. There were no words, apart from his own, that would help. Her embrace wouldn’t stop the dreams, or his feeling of guilt or regret that he hadn’t said goodbye properly to Rita, but it might make it a bit better. Above all, Dave needed to feel loved right now. As far as she knew, Rita had died as soon as she hit the ground. She’d never had a chance.

Dave stepped into her arms, and although he was so tall he felt very small as she held him. He wasn’t crying, he just held her very close. Rose knew then that there was more.

“She’d been very tense that morning because of a Maths test she was meant to sit. It was an important one. She was hopeless at Maths, but she’d have passed,” he said. “Sarah’s ex and I tutored her, but as you can imagine she… neither of us was very patient.”

“But she knew that you loved her.”

He sniffed, but still there were no tears. He adjusted his hold on her a little and shifted his weight to the other foot to be more comfortable. “We made love the night before. I’m sorry, I’m sure that’s too much information. But I don’t know… I need to share it.”

“’S all right,” Rose said, although he was right. She didn’t want to know that; knowing that they might have was enough. But she was being silly too. It was pointless jealousy, besides, Dave had far more reason to doubt her love than it was the other way round. He hadn’t fallen in love with the spitting image of his late wife after all.

Dave gave her a squeeze, then let go of her. “Thank you, Rose.”

“Promise me something?”

He looked at her apprehensively.

“Don’t run away or it’ll consume you. I’m here for you, yeah?”

“Only if you don’t.”

Rose stiffened a little. That was something she couldn’t promise him, even if she expected him to share. “I’ll try.”

He kissed her. “Come on, let’s to bed.”

-:-

They were getting breakfast ready when the phone call came. Although Dave took his phone to work so he still could call for help in case of an emergency, he usually switched it off to be able to work uninterrupted. Lucy knew that, so she called Rose.

“Good morning, Miss Morris,” Rose said, popping bread into the toaster. “How are you?”

“Can I come and join you? You’re at grandpa’s, right?” she asked. It was an answer to her question, the most miserable version of it on top of that.

“Of course,” Rose said. There wasn’t enough room in the Gardener’s House, but she was sure that Murray had a spare bed. “What happened?”

“I miss you so, and the idea of you having fun and… I’m not there, it’s…” Lucy sounded close to tears.

“There there, sweetheart. Of course you can join us. Where are you?” Rose asked. Ewan, who’d been with her when she answered the phone, had fetched Evie, and they were standing in front of her, their expressions curious and expectant. They both missed their older sister, and now they were eager to talk to her on the phone. Or at least overhear Rose’s part of the conversation.

“Lucy’s coming!” Evie stage-whispered excitedly when the kitchen door opened and Paul and Dave came in from the morning’s photo shoot.

“What? When?” Dave looked alarmed first, and pleased second.

Rose shushed them and left the toaster in Ewan’s charge to continue the conversation in the pantry. “I’m at Stuart’s in Edinburgh. We came back from Venice the day before yesterday.”

“And you’ve had quite enough of them,” Rose said.

“Aye. No. Yes. It’s… I miss you so.”

“That’s okay, Lucy. Just catch a train and let us know when you’ll arrive and we’ll pick you up, yeah?” Rose said.

“But I’ve only got my summer things.”

Rose grinned. “I think there’s a bag in Dave’s car with your name tag on it. It was Lottie’s idea to bring some of your stuff, just in case. I hope you don’t mind.”

“She’s brilliant, she is!” Lucy nearly sobbed with relief.

“You tell her that. Now, can I talk to Stuart for a moment?” Rose said.

“Aye. I’ll see you later!”

There was the usual rustling and background noise as Lucy passed her mobile on to her father. “Hello?” His gravelly voice sounded very pleasant even over the phone.

“Hi Stuart, it’s Rose. Tyler.”

“Oh, hello.”

“Lucy wants to join us.”

“Yes, she misses you a lot. I suppose that the past two weeks have been enough Quinlan family and not enough Morris for her,” he said, regret as well as understanding lacing his words.

“Are you sure there hasn’t been a fight or something like that?”

“No, not at all. We’ve had a great time in Venice. How’s the tour of Scotland going?”

“Great, thanks.”

“I’d have given Lucy a lift, but I think she’s very keen on the idea of taking the train. Would you mind calling us when you pick her up? She’s… well,” he interrupted himself.

“She’s your child after all,” Rose said. “Of course we will. Thank you, Stuart.”


	9. Nine

Nine

 _The Scotch hotel-keeper has learned, by the annual immigration of the Southerner, to have things comfortable; in some unexpected places the menu is very good indeed, at dinner as good as could be expected in a first-class London restaurant; and even the the smaller hotels attain a certain point as yet unrealised by those of similar calibre in England. The ridiculous cost of baths in bathrooms is and ever will be a source of annoyance, but this is not peculiar to Scotland._

Rose watched Dave lie sprawled on his back on the dark purple duvet. He was naked, his cock spent in the crease of his thigh and groin. His hipbones stood out in stark relief, dipping towards his navel, the gorge of his appendectomy scar adding a further dip in the geography of his stomach. Dave was thin, the skin tight where it sloped upwards to his ribs and chest. Rose spread the blanket over him so he wasn’t cold and curled up in the armchair, clad in the shirt she’d stolen from him, and a fresh pair of knickers. He’d been falling asleep on his feet as he drove them to the remote hotel on the loch. But upon their arrival in the room, they’d had fast and furious sex, and Dave had fallen asleep promptly after she’d cleaned him up with a flannel.

Rose opened her novel and tucked the bookmark between pages long passed, and started to read. Dave would be asleep for a couple of hours at least, and although she loved his children, she was glad for the chance to read the novel she’d brought for an uninterrupted stretch of time. It was a gripping tale, and she wanted to read more than just a chapter at a time. She wanted to devour it in one sitting, to spend a whole day and the better part of the night in its world. She wouldn’t get that chance now either, but at least she’d be able to get through more of the story than during the children’s story time, when each of them was required to read a book. She loved that they’d decided that they should each spend part of the afternoon reading (or napping in Evie’s case), but it simply wasn’t enough to satisfy her need to know more about the story. 

When she started to get cold, she put on her jeans. 

They had skipped lunch, and when she started to feel hungry she set her book aside and got up. It was time for Dave to wake up anyway, so went to the bed and reached under the covers to massage him. His cock was heavy and limp, but it soon started to grow and thicken. Rose peeled back the covers and took him in her mouth. Dave dropped his hand into her hair for encouragement. Unguarded as he was, he came soon, and although his pleasure excited her, Rose sat back on her heels after she’d teased the last drops out of him and watched him come round.

“Rose,” he rasped.

“Hello, love. I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I’m hungry. Genuinely hungry,” she said. “I hope I haven’t ruined your plans.”

“What time is it?”

“Gone half five.”

“Oh dear. I’m so sorry, Rose. I’m glad you woke me,” he said, sitting up. He looked very sleepy still.

“Working in the mornings and at night without a nap isn’t good for you,” she said. She knew he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his children, but it just wasn’t possible in conjunction with his work. “We could order room service.”

“No!” Dave protested. “The chef promised something extra special, and I don’t… I wanted to give us both a treat. Including dressing up and the trip to the restaurant.”

Rose smiled. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“But I would.”

-:-

Dinner was really spectacular, and Rose was glad Dave insisted on going to the restaurant. She’d never had him down as a foodie, but he told her that he really liked going to first-rate restaurants every now and then. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it too, Rose.”

“I did,” she said, reaching across the table to cover his hand with hers. Aware of the etiquette, she withdrew it quickly, however. “I’d never expected such a lovely place here.”

“Dad and I come here occasionally,” Dave said.

“Oh.” Rose wasn’t sure she wanted to discuss Murray that night, and Dave seemed to realise this just as quickly.

“I just want to… I want to get to know you,” Dave said. “And vice versa. I hope you don’t feel excluded with so much family stuff going on, particularly now that you’ve met Dad.”

Rose laughed, playing with a few breadcrumbs on the white tablecloth. “I like your Dad. He looks younger than I’d expected.”

Dave chuckled. “Early fatherhood isn’t something that runs in the family.”

Rose looked up in shock. That wasn’t at all what she’d meant.

“He’s just got really good genes. I hope I got them,” he said.

“You have your mother’s eyes. And her hair,” Rose observed. “I know who you are, Dave,” she said. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t be here with you. I’m very grateful to you, and the kids. I’d never dreamed of this.”

“Travelling through the country with me and my four bairns.”

“Seriously, though, Dave. I still can’t believe that the… bairns accept me the way they do.”

He smiled at her choice of words. “It amazes me too.”

“I’m glad Lucy’s with us,” Rose said.

“Aye. Although I’m not quite so happy about the gifts she brought everyone,” he said. “I mean, it was nice of her to think of us, but they were too expensive to be covered by her weekly allowance.”

“Stuart is spoiling her rotten,” Rose said, pointing out something she’d thought was obvious. Maybe she’d underestimated Dave and he’d been aware of it but reluctant to mention it. He was that kind of man.

“Aye.”

“You’ll have to tell him to stop it. The others will learn to expect small gifts as well,” Rose said. “You and Rita brought them up outside the consumerist madness, didn’t you?”

Dave sighed, “She wanted to protect them. I mean, it’s essential that they learn how to spend or save their money, but she was very strict about it. I’ll really have to find a way of making that work. In addition to everything else.”

Rose took a deep breath. She wasn’t quite sure if it was her place to say it, because it was so early on in their relationship, and she didn’t want to come across as taking things for granted or entitled to have her say. “I’d be happy to help, Dave. You’ll just have to tell me what you want, how much you want me to be part of bringing the kids up.”

He looked at her a little incredulous at first, then, as he realised that she meant what she’d said, his face lit up.

“The children know I don’t want to, nor can I, can’t replace Rita; and they know that I support your decisions and enforce your rules,” she hastened to add. “I had a little chat with Lucy, and I’m sure she passed that on to the little ones.”

“You’re amazing, do you know that, Rose?” Dave said, his eyes beginning to shine suspiciously.

She ducked her head. 

“You are.”

The waiter appeared just then with the dessert, and Rose inhaled deeply and smiled as she leaned back so he could place the plate with homemade tarte tatin and caramel ice cream in front of her. The ice cream was melting where it touched the warm pie. 

-:-

“Someone really likes hold-ups,” Rose mumbled against Dave’s lips and bucked when he pushed the elastic of her knickers aside to slide his fingers over her damp flesh. 

“Oh yes,” he growled against her, nipping her bottom lip. “And I really love these.” He freed his fingers from beneath the lace of her knickers and drew them, damp, over the expanse of creamy, naked flesh until he reached the tops of her hold-up stockings. In addition to the elastic lining the lace at their tops, they also had satin ribbons that tied halfway down her thighs. She couldn’t wear them with narrow skirts without the tiny bows visible, but this skirt swirled lightly about her knees and no one could see a thing. Dave fondled the bow as she raised her knee and wrapped her leg around his. He pushed the dark material of her dress up so he could see the bow. It was a pale pink, almost matching the tops of her knickers. He ran his fingers over the material of her stockings. It was a rather thick, opaque material that had a beautiful silken sheen in the right light.

“Glad I picked them after all,” Rose said, pulling her head back so she could return for a proper kiss. She deepened it, sliding her legs down his trousers. Dave groaned into her mouth at her movement. He was very hard and pressing into her.

“What would you like?” she asked.

“Rose, it’s my turn tonight. I want to take care of you, spoil you, because you deserve it. I love you so much, Rose,” he murmured, his breathing hard and coming puffs over the sensitive skin below her ear. “Can I leave the stockings on?”

Rose giggled softly; it wasn’t much more than a soft laugh riding on the breath she let out slowly. “I’d like that.”

“I want to… eat you.”

He was playing with new words, and they came out in a rush. He grinned sheepishly at her.

“Mmm. And then?”

“I’d like you to ride me.”

“Sounds great,” she purred. “Are you going to sit up when I come? So you can catch me.”

“Yes, Rose. Yes,” he breathed. “And then I want… your legs on my shoulders, and I want to be so deep inside you, Rose. I want to crawl into you and make you come again.”

“What about you?” she asked, wondering what had gotten into him that he was suddenly talking so openly about what he wanted to do to her in bed. It most certainly wasn’t the wine; they’d shared half a litre of a lovely red between them. Was he finally opening up to tell her what he wanted, as opposed to yielding to her whim?

He faltered. Had she asked the wrong question?

“Dave?” she asked, sliding her hand down his black tie and black shirt underneath his black jacket. 

“I want to… Oh, this is like phone sex without a phone,” he groaned in despair. His courage had left him. 

Rose laughed softly. “Yeah. And you know what?”

“Hmm?” he looked up, his eyes wide, not knowing what to expect.

“I prefer it without the phone.”

He laughed.

“Sit back, kind sir,” she said, guiding him backwards to the armchair facing the bed. When his calves touched it, he carefully lowered himself into the overstuffed chair. He had gone a little soft when words had failed him, and Rose tried to remedy that. Stepping between his knees, she turned around and looked over her shoulder. “Would you mind?” She faced the bed again, and then he touched the back of her neck, caressing her there, playing with the tiny curls that always escaped when she pinned up her hair. His feathery touch made her shiver with delight, and she could hear his small gleeful intake of air. His fingers then fell to the top of the zip and he began to pull it down inch by inch. He must have scooted forward to the very edge of the chair, and then he nudged her gently so he could stand. His lips and tongue followed the trail of the zip, and when they reached the barrier of her bra, he simply flicked the catch open and continued on his journey. Rose shivered again at his touch, and again he laughed very softly. She didn’t want to break the spell and tried to control her breathing. His words and his caresses had made her very wet. It was going to be embarrassing when he slipped his fingers into her knickers.

When he had lowered the zip as far as it would go, he slid his hands into her dress and beneath the satin and lace of her bra to cup her breasts. Rose gasped and sagged a little back against him. He brushed her hardening nipples with his palms before he ran his hands to her back and to her shoulders so he could push her dress down her arms. He didn’t stop to pay particular attention to her scars physically, but it was a while before he asked her to turn around.

“You’re so beautiful, Rose,” he said softly, taking her into his arms, pressing a kiss against her temple. “All of you. Now.” He withdrew. “I want you to take off your knickers and sit down.” He made room for her, watching her take off her knickers. Rose decided not to make a show of it. Both of them were so turned on already that a little strip-tease would have felt cheap. She gave her knickers to Dave, who dropped them carelessly as she sat in the chair. She sank deeply into the cushions, and, momentarily startled, she laughed. It felt naughty to sit there naked while Dave was still fully dressed.

“Can I ask something?”

“Anything, my love,” Dave said.

“Don’t take off your shirt. Unless… you’re wearing a vest.”

“I’m nae wearing a vest, Rose.”

Additional wetness pooled between her legs, and she hoped she didn’t make a mess of the chair. She watched him undress, but he didn’t offer her the chance to kiss and lick his chest as he unbuttoned his black dress shirt. She stared, arousal now pulsing between her legs as she looked at him, his pale skin, the pecs dusted with hair, his treasure trail. He’d unbuttoned his shirt last, and as it fell apart, she saw his erection, its tip shiny already. She licked her lips.

“Like what you see then?”

“Oh yes,” she purred.

“Good.” Grinning, he knelt before her. The combination of coyness and brazenness in him excited her more than she cared to admit, but since she didn’t know if it was intentional she didn’t comment on it. She decided just to lie back and enjoy.

He took her feet one after the other to unsnap the buckles that fastened her mary jane heels. He cupped her heels, caressed her ankles and ran his fingers along the arches of her stockinged feet. He hummed softly to himself in appreciation. Rose watched him. He seemed completely lost in his task to make her come and come again. She was torn between watching him and lying back and giving herself over to him. He was so gorgeous, but she could enjoy better without the distraction.

She leaned back and closed her eyes as he picked up her left leg to kiss his way up its length, nuzzling the silken stockings with his nose. He swirled his tongue around her flesh above the lace trim at the top and dove in for a quick kiss and lick to her folds. Rose cried out in surprise, arching off the cushions.

“Rose?” Her strong reaction had pulled him out of his trance.

“Fine, fine,” she squeaked.

He smiled, draping her leg over the arm of the chair, making her shimmy towards the edge of the seat a bit. He gave her right leg the same treatment, and this time, he remained nuzzling her between her legs. Rose dropped her hands into his hair to encourage him. He was wickedly good with his lips and tongue. Just when he’d driven her close to the brink, he blew gently over her, running his hands soothingly over her legs or up to her breasts to give her time to recover before he resumed his ministrations.

“Dave!” she gasped when her pleasure drove tears into her eyes and she was afraid of fainting because she couldn’t take it any more. Her fingers curled into his hair, but if she hurt him, he didn’t let on. Not knowing what to do, Rose arched her back and reached above and behind her for support, pushing herself into his mouth. He sucked one last time, and she felt a pleasant warmth engulf her, tingling up her body. His name was on her lips, but she didn’t have enough of a voice to give it body.

“Here, Rose, I’ve got you, my love,” Dave whispered, and there was more, but her body was still shivering, her mind so fuzzy that it took quite a while before she was aware of her surroundings once more. Dave had pulled her off the edge and into his lap, his cock wet against her skin, holding her as he sat cross legged.

“Oh. Oh,” Rose managed to say feebly.

“What happened?”

She guffawed softly. “I _came_ , you wonderful, _glaikit_ man.”

He made that adorable gleeful sound again.

After a few moments’ rest, he took her to the bed, where he did to her what he’d promised earlier. Whatever he did, if she was riding him or he was crouched above her, he paid particular attention to her stockinged legs. Rose enjoyed his touch through the material, and if she was honest, she was turned on by the fact that he was so turned on by her hold-ups. She couldn’t wait to see what proper suspenders did to him.

She came twice more without him, but when she was close again, rippling around him, he finally allowed her to pull him over the brink with her. This last orgasm was a pleasant, gentle one. But he cried her name once or twice, before he covered her like a Dave-shaped blanket, his breathing ragged and his heartbeat even more so. She squeezed him, relishing the time they could remain like this. She needed to tell him that they were protected enough, that the condom wasn’t really necessary. But she couldn’t break his heart.


	10. Ten

Ten

Their return to Carlinburn was delayed because the road between the valley where their hotel was and the castle was blocked by a bus that had broken down, blocking the narrow pass. They were forced to reverse quite a distance to a car park offering a view of the Highland wilderness; Dave passed the time taking pictures; luckily, he hadn’t removed his equipment from the car before they’d set off for the hotel the previous day. Several calls were made to Murray and the children, and Dave laughed with relief when Lucy told him that all was well and that they were enjoying the pool.

“It’s fabulous, Dad!” she enthused. “They’ve built a pool in the greenhouse, and there are tropical plants. It’s like a day off.”

“It _is_ a day off,” Dave pointed out.

“Yes, but. Dad! A day off from the Highlands,” she sighed, exasperated.

He chuckled.

“You and Rose must join us when you get back.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t promise that. I’ll have to work, and Rose, well…” After a bit of a pause, while he fished around for an excuse because he didn’t want to offer up something Rose couldn’t follow through with, Lucy made a small noise. She’d understood his hesitation, feminine intuition no doubt, and gave him an out.

“Oh. Well, she can always come and relax in a deck chair. It’s lovely,” she said.

“On such a fine day?” Dave said, scanning the crisp blue sky. Curled up in bed that night they’d watched the aurora, marvelling at the display of colour once again.

“Can I come?” she asked suddenly.

“What?” he blinked, turning around to check on the traffic. Help hadn’t arrived yet, and Rose was sitting at one of the picnic tables, soaking up the sunshine. It caught the highlights in her hair, and for a moment he was so distracted by the concept of Rose being there with him, en route back from a night together, that he forgot about Lucy’s question.

“Can I come and watch you work? And, maybe,” she said, “I was wondering.”

 _Oh._ He blinked again, turning away from Rose. No more distractions now. Lucy wanted to go to work with him? “What, love?”

“If maybe you could show me how to use a camera. I… Promise you won’t be mad?”

Dave steeled himself for what was to come. What if she’d decided to leave school? To run away with some dashing Italian, to Thailand, to meditate and find herself? He shook his head. Now, that’s pretty _glaikit_. “I promise.”

“I took advantage of Stuart,” she said. “I asked him for a camera.”

Dave stood very still.

“Dad?”

“Still here,” he croaked. “Lucy.”

“I can give it back, of course!” she said hastily. “But he said it was okay, and… Dad? You aren’t mad? Because I didn’t ask you first?”

“What do ye want a camera for?” 

“I’d like you to teach me. Please. About photography.” Although carefully rehearsed, her words had come out haltingly as she’d asked him, betraying her nervous excitement and dedication.

“I’d love to,” he said, still finding it hard to comprehend what they had just talked about. He looked around himself, assessing everything he could teach her right there, on this vista car park. “I’d really like that. Have you talked to Paul?”

“Yeah, he said it’s fine.”

Paul didn’t like the idea of him travelling alone. He’d made no fuss whatsoever when Rose and he had set off for the hotel the day before. Apparently, all he wanted was to make sure that he wasn’t by himself, just in case he needed help. Did he really think that Lucy, Rose or he could protect him? He took a deep breath. He couldn’t allow his son to carry that weight. If travelling with company made it lighter for him to bear, then Dave was happy to indulge him, but of course it was something they needed to deal with.

“Great. I don’t know when we’ll be back. Help hasn’t arrived yet.” They ended the call. Suddenly, the idea of spending the rest of the day working didn’t seem so tedious any more. He looked forward to catching up with Lucy. He couldn’t wait to hit the road again and go on a retreat with his daughter. He wanted to teach her as much as she wanted to learn. In contrast to Tanya, Lucy was really interested in learning about photography. Also, the fact that she kept calling him Dad filled him with the warm fuzzies.

He joined Rose, sitting next to her with his back to the table so he could see the road. The other people in the car park were preoccupied with themselves and each other, so Rose lay back with her feet on the bench and her head on his thighs. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, resting one hand on her stomach while playing with some loose locks of her hair with the other.

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” she said.

“It’s because I’m a happy man.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied. “Is Lucy all right? You’ve been quite a while.”

“Aye. She’s fine now. Relieved. She asked me if I could teach her about taking photos. She was very nervous about it. Which doesn’t make me very happy. But I’m glad she wants to spend time with her ol' Dad. Well.”

Rose covered their hands with her free one. “She’s nervous because it means a lot to her.”

Dave held her gaze. “I’m trying to tell her I love her. But she’s a teenager, she’s Rita’s teenager and I don’t want to scare her. Or come across as a control freak.”

“Is that what she called you? A control freak?”

“Aye,” he croaked.

Rose laughed, and her mirth was absolutely not funny and absolutely beyond him. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

“She loves you, you plum. If a teenager calls you a control freak it’s to acknowledge the fact that you worry about her and to tell you to stop and trust her.”

“Only not in so many words. And the tone…”

Rose sighed. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I wasn’t there for Tanya,” he blurted.

“No. But you’re here for Lucy and Paul and Ewan and Evie. And from what I gather Michelle didn’t want you to be there.”

“You’re right. Still.”

“I know.”

Orange flashlights in the distance caught his attention. “Help has arrived.”

“Shame. Just when I was getting comfortable.”

He caressed her hair and thought that he really was a lucky man. It was incredible.

-:-

When Dave and Lucy got out of the car after an hour’s journey, he felt her eyes follow his every movement. They had spent the last quarter of an hour in silence, but it had been a companionable. Her gaze was therefore a bit strange, and he straightened as he slung his camera bag over his shoulder. She was holding her own in front of her like a lunchbox.

“Lucy?”

“Can I just have a hug, Dad?” she asked softly.

“Of course you can, love.” He set his bag down carefully and held out his arms for her. After she had put down her bag as well, she stepped into his embrace and held him close. He was surprised at her strength, but she loosened her grip after a few beats a little. He pressed his cheek against her temple. She was even thinner than he remembered. One might think that a holiday in Italy would have put some weight on her. Did he have to worry about Lucy’s eating habits? He was a bit confused because Lucy had eaten well since she had joined them, better than in a long time, actually. 

“It’s so good to be back,” she said, letting go of him eventually.

He smiled at her. “We missed you too.”

“I couldn’t eat much because I missed you,” she said. 

“Aye,” he said, reaching out to touch her side. He could feel the ridges of her ribs through her jumper.

“You don’t need to worry, Dad. I’m not anorexic or anything. I just missed you.”

He smiled. “I’ve seen you eat.”

“And I didn’t go to the loo after,” she added for good measure.

“You know all the tricks, eh?” he asked, sighing.

“Yes, but just because one girl in my form did it. Tracy Canning. She got better at hiding it, though. But I’m not like her. I’m really not, Dad,” she said, sounding distressed.

“Hey, hey,” he said soothingly, cupping her cheek. “I believe you. Look at me. I believe you.”

He held her gaze steadily, trying to be as open as possible, although he knew that, unlike Rose, she couldn’t see into his mind. “We need to build something new, don’t we?” Lucy asked.

“Yes. I’m really glad you came with me. But you could have come without the premise of learning photography.” He was giving her an out, and he held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

“I really want to learn how to take pictures,” she said. “I wouldn’t have asked Stuart for such an expensive camera.”

“Let’s have a look,” he said. He hadn’t really paid attention to the size of the bag. When Lucy lifted it up to set it on the lip of the boot and opened it, he nearly gasped as she revealed the latest model of a Nikon DSLR, one he would have liked to buy for himself. His jaw went slightly slack. “He bought you this?”

“Yeah. I told him you use a Nikon, and this is the one he got me. Dad, I had no idea,” she said. “I can give it back. He told me that I could try it and —”

“No, it’s okay.” He could hear Rita’s furious protest, but he decided not to listen to her. She would have made Lucy return the gift; it _was_ expensive. But Rita hadn’t allowed Stuart to help her out financially and he appreciated Stuart’s need to contribute something to his daughter’s education. He didn’t see why she shouldn’t keep it. Stuart was a reasonable enough man to know that he couldn’t buy Lucy’s love — or her consent to him adopting her. It couldn’t hurt to discuss this with him, however. Lucy had told both Rose and him how ill at ease she had been about his constant generosity.

“Really?”

“Yes. Rita wouldn’t accept his money, but I think you can accept this gift. Think of it as an investment in your future,” he said.

Lucy looked at him while she mulled it over. He was overcome with pride. “All right.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m a wee bit thirsty. How about a cuppa from the café and I’ll explain some of the basics to you?”

“Sounds good.”

-:-

Checking his work that night, he listened to Lucy practise playing the violin. He noticed that she had made considerable progress since she started lessons in Edinburgh, and he wondered what they were going to do about them now that she was going to come back home. He knew how important working with just one tutor over a longer period of time was, but it couldn’t be helped. Commuting for lessons just wasn’t possible, for either Lucy or for her tutor. They’d have to find someone equally good in Glasgow. He could pay for the lessons from Lucy’s part of the compensation, but he had an idea that Stuart wasn’t going to have any of it. It was the same with the camera. He had discussed it with Rose, and she had agreed that now that Stuart was part of Lucy’s life, and actually wanted to be part of it, they couldn’t really tell him that his financial support wasn’t welcome. All they could do was ensure that he wasn’t trying to buy Lucy’s affection.

He reviewed Lucy’s first attempts at photography. She knew how to choose an interesting shoot, and he was sure that her technical skills would improve quickly. There were two photos that were really good. He leaned back in his chair, smiling. 

It was getting late, and the afternoon had been productive but exhausting. He reached for his glass of wine to finish it. Wine always helped to get him ready for bed.

“This one’s really good,” Rose said. She had stopped reading and joined him at the dinner table. She stood behind him, sliding her hands from his shoulder to his chest. He took her right hand and kissed her palm. It smelled faintly of soap and book, a scent he really liked on her skin.

“It’s Lucy’s,” he said.

“Wow. She’s very talented.”

“Aye.”

“So it was a good day?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” he sighed, tipping his head back against her stomach. He looked up at her, and he closed his eyes when she started to caress his face. “I think —”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Lucy said softly. Rose withdrew her hands at once and he looked at his daughter, smiling to let her know she wasn’t unwelcome. They had come so far that afternoon he didn’t want to spoil it. Besides, she wasn’t really interrupting.

“Hey. Here, come look at this,” he said, turning his laptop so she could see the screen. She rounded the table and stood beside them. “This one’s yours.”

“Oh.”

“It’s very good,” Rose said. “If I may say so.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said distractedly, losing herself in the image of the bow of a beached rowing boat, the background of the stony beach blurry but just recognisable.

“We can talk about it in the morning. Do you want to come?” Dave asked.

“I’d love to.”

Her reply released a few fluttery creatures in his stomach, and he grinned. “Good.”

“But for now it’s time for bed. You two are falling asleep on your feet,” Rose said, squeezing his shoulders in a way that sent shivers down his spine. A back rub was an excellent idea…

-:-

His Dad found him sitting on the bench by the rear entrance to the castle’s kitchens. It had started to drizzle right after lunchtime, and there were only a few visitors about. The other families occupying the mews cottages were nowhere to be seen, so he might as well found himself a less hidden spot. The bench was protected from the elements by an overhang. It stood where some of the firewood for the bread oven had been stored. Oddly enough, this castle’s bread oven was fuelled from the outside; it was a mystery to historians.

Murray brought tea in a Thermos flask, some milk, his coat pockets bulging with mugs, packets of sugar and spoons. There also was a brown paper bag containing pastries, Dave noted when he looked up. He ran his hand through his hair. He’d been sitting here for the better part of half an hour, and he still hadn’t figured out what to say to him. He accepted the two mugs and watched his Dad empty the sachets into them, then reinforced his grip as the tea poured in added to the weight. He watched the milk swirl and lighten the brew as Murray stirred it into their tea. After he had closed the Thermos, Murray sat, accepting his mug in exchange for a piece of caramel shortbread. Dave smiled. Rose’s favourite.

“This is sublime,” he said. The crumbly shortbread mixed with the smooth, sticky texture of the caramel and the solid chocolate cover as he ate it.

“Holly’s best,” Murray agreed. 

“So you and Holly…”

“… are an item.”

“Ah.” He took another bite. He’d thought so, and he’d seen them kiss. It had been an odd sight to behold. His Dad had never talked about women after his Mum’s death, so seeing him kiss Holly had come as a surprise. It had been an almost innocent kiss, but intimate enough to suggest that they were more than just friends. “I’m glad.”

“You’re upset,” Murray corrected him.

“Surprised.”

“I didn’t want to mention her so soon after Rita’s death,” Murray said.

Dave sipped his tea. “Aye.”

“I like Rose,” Murray said. Dave was grateful that he didn’t comment on the fact that Rose had come into his life so soon after Rita’s death. He wouldn’t have meant to sound like a rebuke, that Dave knew, but considering how long Murray had been single it might have come across as such.

“She’s had an email from her people,” Dave said. He didn’t want to discuss their relationship now. He wanted to pass the news on and be done with it. Giving Dad some peace felt a bit like finding Lucy’s biological father. It opened chapters and wounds that might be better left closed, but he really felt they all needed to know. “About Mum.”

“Oh,” his Dad said, sipping his tea. “Well?”

He looked at him. It was now or never. Maybe he should just tell him that Torchwood had found nothing, but the distance between them seemed to crackle with the mystery. Protecting it would damage their relationship. “She drove the car off the road.”

“Why?”

“No one ever doubted that she must have been blinded or shocked by an animal flitting across the road that there wasn’t an enquiry. Officially, at least. Torchwood got wind of it, and they found out that she had been bitten by an Uggsomegaut.”

His Dad didn’t believe a word he’d said. Uggsomegauts were the stuff of scary bedtime tales. They had inhabited quite a few of the stories his parents had told him. Everyone knew, however, that the bite of that beast caused hallucinations. “I’ve never heard anything so _glaikit_.”

“I hope she didn’t see anything horrible,” Dave said quietly. He pulled the folded-up print of the email out of his coat pocket and gave it to his Dad. He perused it twice and then once more.

“How could she have been bitten by an Uggsomegaut?” he murmured as he carefully refolded the letter. When he returned it, Dave gestured for him to keep it.

“Even Torchwood can’t seem to find that out,” Dave said. “Maybe we should leave it be. We might find something we don’t want to know.”

“Your mother never betrayed me,” his Dad ground out.

“No. Of course she didn’t,” Dave said, horrified at the idea. As far as he had been aware of his parents’ marriage when he was a teenager, it was a happy, faithful one. 

“She didn’t,” his Dad insisted, and Dave wished he’d never asked Torchwood to find out. It had opened a can of something wiggly and ugly that was hard to put a lid on and forget about.

“She was on her way back from a field trip to the Highlands to test some device,” Dave recalled. His memory of that day was remarkable clear until he had received the news of her accident. Everything after was a blur, just like it had been after the news of Rita’s accident. He had no memory of getting to the room where his children waited until he held them to his chest, or of the journey home. Sarah had given them a lift, in no condition herself to drive. “She told me that morning over the phone that some wild animal had bitten her at night.”

“Aye.” His Dad knew that, because Dave had relayed the story to him, reassuring him like his Mum had, that the wound was taken care of by one of the members of her team. His Dad looked at him. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

Dave smiled wanly at him.

“So, Uggsomegauts, eh?”

Dave shrugged. “That’s what life with the director of Torchwood Glasgow is like.”


	11. Eleven

Week Three -- The Tower House

Eleven

_In certain nooks there are still inns of the good old Meg Dods kind — cosy, friendly, modestly comfortable; but the address of these havens is a secret to be locked in faithful breasts, and strangers can hardly expect to have it freely communicated._

Rose had stretched out on the lounger in the orchid garden. The double doors connecting the former tropical room to the main room were open so she could comfortably watch the children, but still have a bit of quiet in which to read. She had yet to find a swimsuit that covered her scars well enough, so she wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The children’s patience regarding her reluctance to join them in the water was wearing thin. Today, however, she really couldn’t join them.

“You can at least dangle your feet in the water,” Lucy argued after Rose had told her that she had her period. She wished she could have skipped the monthly break of taking the pill so she could avoid the unpleasantness of stains and cramps, but she had already skipped the previous months. Dominic had advised her not to do without the break this month as well.

“I will, just let me finish the chapter,” Rose said.

“Thanks. You’re the best. The little ones don’t understand, and I’m not sure they want to hear about… you know.”

“Yeah,” Rose said, smiling.

She started reading the last paragraph of the chapter when her mobile rang. Frowning and hoping that it wasn’t Mickey about to report a major disaster, she fished it out of her back pocket. She didn’t recognise the number on the display so she frowned even more, debating whether to accept the call. Eventually, she hit the green button.

“Rose Tyler?” The voice sounded as if it belonged to an elderly gentleman, and he sounded very Scottish. Oh dear, Rose thought. “This is Harry. Of Sauchieslock Castle?”

Obviously, he expected her to know who he was. “Is this about the appointment with Dave Tiler, the photographer?” she guessed.

“Appointment? No hen, this is about the holiday home you’ve booked from tomorrow. I do have the right number, aye?”

“Actually, I’m not quite sure,” Rose said, turning away from the children so she could concentrate on the conversation. They were playing a rowdy game that involved a ball and Evie’s kickboard.

“Should have said. Maude gave me your number. You booked two holiday cottages in Bowness-on-Firth. From tomorrow,” he explained.

“Oh yes,” Rose said, her face lighting up in recognition. But then she frowned again. “Is there a problem?”

“‘fraid so, hen. They have a problem with the gas mains, and it cannae be fixed in time. Maude asked me and I asked my granddaughter, and here we are,” he said.

“Sauchieslock Castle,” Rose concluded.

“Aye. It’s free this week and we’d be happy to have ye, since ye can’t stay at Maude’s, can ye,” Harry said. “Is that all right with ye? Everything’s taken care of. Do ye have access to your email? I’ll send ye the details.”

“Yes, please. That’s very kind, Harry.”

“See ye tomorrow then. I’ll be in all day, just pop in when ye’re ready.”

In a daze, Rose rang off. The kids had selected the two cottages because they loved the idea of them being on a sandy beach so they could fly their kites and build sand castles. Dave loved the idea of going for walks along the edge of the water. She hadn’t even asked where Sauchieslock Castle was, but with the two cottages unavailable what choice did they have? It was the height of the season, and finding accommodation for two was a daunting task, let alone for seven.

“Rose!” This time, the children had sent Evie to get her. They were playing dirty, and they knew it.

“Coming,” she said, putting on a smile for her. Evie returned it, beaming. Rose dropped her mobile onto the lounger and stood to take her hand. Evie dragged her towards the pool, and when the boys and Lucy saw her they welcomed her with cheers and wolf whistles.

-:-

Lottie had had enough of her day off halfway through the afternoon and had taken over the kitchen. Murray and Holly had joined them because it was their last night at Carlinburn. They were now playing a board game with the children; Murray took advantage of having Lottie around and practised his German with her, which of course annoyed the children because they didn’t understand them. Rose did her best not to overhear their conversation.

“Have you looked it up yet?” Dave asked while they were doing the dishes.

“No. To be honest, I’m a bit scared of what it might look like. The children were so excited about the seaside,” Rose said, taking the dripping dish from him to place it in the rack.

“Aye. But they’ll have a bazillion questions,” he said. He hadn’t been happy about the news either, and so far they had put off telling the kids about their new accommodation.

“Not that we don’t, but that’s beside the point,” Rose said, picking up a plate to dry it.

“We’re not going to the seaside?” Evie cried out in horror. Neither Rose nor Dave had noticed her coming in to refill the juice pitcher. Rose hurried towards her to take the glassware from her before it shattered on the floor. Evie tended to forget about everything around her when she was absorbed by an idea.

“We can’t, Evie,” Rose said, gently taking the pitcher from her. “The gas mains at the cottages are broken and we can’t stay there.” She realised only then how dangerous that place was, and what might have happened if the leak hadn’t been discovered before they arrived. She pitied the residents who had to cut their holiday short.

“But where are we going then? We’re not going home, are we?”

“No, we’re going somewhere else. Why don’t we look the place up on the internet? The owner promised to send a link so we can have a look and figure out the driving directions,” Rose suggested. She exchanged a quick glance with Dave who had paused and turned around at the sink.

“My laptop’s on the breakfast bar. Have a look and tell me all about it,” he said.

Rose lifted Evie onto one of the stools and opened the lid. She quickly found the website, but it took a while to load. Hopefully, it was a decent place that offered a good alternative to the elusive pleasures of the beach. Rose started to caress Evie’s hair and adjusted the clip that had come loose.

“This can’t be it,” she murmured when the site had fully loaded. The castle was a sixteenth century tower house with a walled garden, beautifully converted and luxuriously appointed. There were five bedrooms, all en suite, a study and a games room on top of the lounge in the great hall and the vaulted kitchen and dining room. She checked the name and the link, but this was indeed Sauchieslock Castle. It was on the same beach as the cottages, and then Rose remembered that they had skipped the castle when they’d first looked for a place to stay because it was far too lavish a place to stay with four children.

“Talk to me, Rose. Evie?” Dave said.

Rose forced herself to look up. “It’s the castle near the cottages. The one we dismissed.”

“What?” Dave squeaked. “We can’t possibly stay there. It costs a fortune. And since I’m nearly done with work I can hardly put it on the expenses list.”

“Let me talk to Harry. He gave me his number in case there were any questions,” Rose said. She took Evie’s hand. “Don’t tell them yet. Dave will give you some juice and then go back to the lounge. But don’t tell them.”

At that, Evie rolled her eyes to let her know that she might be only five, but perfectly capable of keeping a secret.

-:-

Everyone’s mood was subdued when they left. It wasn’t only because the kids weren’t going to see their grandfather for a while, but also because the news that the accommodation they’d chosen for their final week of their trip wasn’t available. No one quite trusted the beautiful photos on the website; Murray had printed the brochure that was available for download. The children had pored over it for a while, too gutted to look at it unbiased. Rose couldn’t blame them; she’d travelled enough to know that sometimes proprietors made their ‘boutique, period’ rooms more appealing, and, in one case, had published a photo of their own bedroom. Nevertheless, she and Dave tried their best to cheer them up, but when Dave unfolded himself from the driver’s seat in the yard of the forbidding tower house, she knew that the children were still sceptical, even stubbornly so.

Sauchieslock Castle was a little ways down from the cottages, and, according to the children, on the wrong side of the road, which separated the grounds from the beach. The road was a minor one with hardly any traffic, and since the castle was owned privately, it was signposted discreetly and not advertised as a place open to the public. To her relief, Rose noted that Evie looked better after the bout of mild nausea she had suffered on the short trip on the ferry. Lucy, who had travelled with her in the small car, frowned as she got out and closed the door with exaggerated care. She had been chipper, but her mood had changed mercurially, reminding Rose of her much older travel companion Over There.

The castle looked inaccessible and cold, the open door to the walled garden was almost dark with the tree archway it opened to. Next to the castle there were a couple of lower buildings framing the yard. One of them looked like a garage for the cars, the other one’s purpose wasn’t readily identifiable. The whole place was well-kept but looked cold and unwelcoming. Rose wasn’t sure if the place lived up to the brochure, and for the first time she wondered what they were going to do if they didn’t like the place at all. Going home would disappoint the children as well as Dave and herself. It was, in fact, out of the question, but finding accommodation for seven in July was just as impossible. She couldn’t believe that such a luxurious place was available this time in the season. Something had to be wrong.

“Shall we?” Rose said to Lucy.

The girl’s lips were a thin line as she nodded briskly. Together they stepped towards the small door, their gazes travelling up the grey stone wall that sported only a handful of small windows. The door itself was as narrow as it was low; Dave would have to stoop if he wanted to avoid hitting his head on the lintel.

Rose firmly grasped the knocker, and the sound of metal on metal-mounted -on-wood echoed dully through the building. The door was opened promptly by an elderly man. He stood very still. “Oh.”

Rose sighed inwardly, but smiled. Another person who recognised her. “Hello. You must be Harry. I’m Rose,” she said warmly, extending her hand.

To his credit, Harry recovered quickly. “Welcome to Sauchieslock Castle. And who’s this?”

“Lucy Morris,” Lucy said a bit reluctantly. “I’m Rose’s friend.”

“Splendid. Do come in, ladies,” Harry said. “This is the hall. It leads to the kitchen and dining room.”

As they stepped into the hall both Rose and Lucy recognised the room from the photos in the brochure. They exchanged a quick glance. Could it be that this place was for real? During Harry’s quick tour they recognised each of the rooms they had regarded so reservedly the day before, and they both warmed to their host and their home for the coming week.

“If you’ve got any questions or if there’s anything you need, please feel free to call me, aye?” Harry said once they were back in the entrance hall. In the meantime it had started to rain lightly.

Rose nodded, stunned.

“Can I just ask you something?” Lucy said.

“Of course, hen,” Harry said.

“Why is such a fantastic place available during the summer holidays?”

“Most people prefer smaller accommodation.” It was, of course, code for ‘It’s too expensive’. “And they prefer direct access to the beach.”

Lucy nodded, but Rose saw that she didn’t quite believe him.

“Do you like it?” he asked, sounding almost anxious.

“Like it?” Lucy echoed.

“We love it,” Rose said. “We just can’t believe it.”

“Oh, ye can,” Harry said, clearly relieved. “If there’s anything ye need, please feel free to call me.” He gave them the keys, and, with a tip to the hat he wasn’t wearing, he left.

Rose and Lucy were so stunned that when they looked at each other they didn’t need to speak to know exactly what the other was thinking. Dave had texted Rose to let her know they were on the beach, so they set off to find them there. They were kicking a ball around and running about, enjoying the slight breeze and the salty sea air. It seemed cuttingly sharp after the sweetness of the air at Carlinburn. As soon as the kids saw them, the ball was forgotten and they came running towards them.

“So?” Dave asked.

“It’s magical!” Lucy enthused. “It’s like something out of Evie’s story books. It’s everything it promises to be in the brochure.”

“Can we have the room with the twin beds?” Ewan asked. Rose guffawed, smiling. Trust him to have prepared for the best possible outcome too.

“Sure,” she said. There was one other twin room the girls could have, and one double for Dave and herself, as well as one for Lottie. They were quickly settled into their rooms, the circular staircase posing a challenge when they carried their bags upstairs. Rose joined Dave in the bathroom. She wanted to go to the village to get the week’s shopping done.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Look at this tub,” Dave said. “And the fireplace.”

Rose smiled, tucking the tip of her tongue between her teeth. “Someone’s mind is working overtime.” The old bathtub sat halfway in the nook created by the small window in the thick wall, and there was a small, decorative paraffin burner in the fireplace.

“We’ve never made love in the bath,” he pointed out. “And if this isn’t an invitation to do so, I don’t know what is.”

She wrapped her arms around him from behind. “You’re right, my love. I’d like to make love in here. I’d like to make love in almost every room.”

Dave sagged a little against her. “Aye. There’s just a wee problem. The bairns.”

“We’ll think of something. I like the idea of creating a bubble of our own here, rather than going away to some hotel room,” she said. Then she bit her lip. She’d already made arrangements for this week’s Davesday, and she was looking forward to it. Maybe they could have both.

“I know what you mean,” he said, turning in her embrace. He enfolded her in his arms and ducked his head to kiss her. Rose felt herself go soft in his arms as she opened up to him and allowed the wave of pleasure that just kissing him brought her to wash over her. “I love you, Rose.”

Her breath hitched. “I love you too.”

“Thank you for joining us. It means a lot,” he said, choosing his words carefully. He leaned his cheek into her palm as she raised her hand. She loved the feel of his stubble against her soft skin. If they weren’t in a hurry to get to the supermarket, she’d love to feel his stubble against the insides of her thighs.

“We’ve got to go,” she said.

“Aye. Right,” he said, shaking off the hooded look his eyes had taken on. Casting a longing glance at the tub, he slid his hand into hers and followed her out of their room and down the spiral staircase. Evie and Ewan opted to accompany them, while Paul and Lucy explored the walled garden with Lottie.

At the supermarket, Rose had a call from Mickey about Evie’s ghost at Laighgairy. The keeper’s cottage was free for just one day later that week, and he and Tom were going out to explore the place. “Any more ghosts?”

“Not so far, no. But we’re staying at a castle instead of the cottages. Long story,” Rose said, watching Dave as he made a show of selecting packets of crumpets. As always, their trolley filled fast, and, distracted as she was, Rose wondered how much to contribute to Dave’s expenses. She had insisted on paying for their stay at Laighgairy, and the gardener’s house had come next to nothing because they were the first residents and had filled in a lengthy feedback form in return for almost free lodgings. Sauchieslock was an entirely different story, and she couldn’t quite believe that Harry let them stay at the rate the cottages would have cost.

Rose ducked away from Dave as he dove in for a kiss, turning her back on him to concentrate on the conversation with Mickey. Sometimes Dave made her feel like the silly girl she’d been when she’d met Jimmy, and then Mickey. Only she was less silly with Mickey around, because he was good for her. If it hadn’t been for the Doctor she was sure they would still be together. Whether that was good or not was idle speculation.

“I’m sure the kids will come up with something. They always do,” Mickey said good-naturedly.

“Yeah, God knows where they find these stories. It’s like they have an extra sense for this kind of stuff.”

“But that’s good, really. I hope yours won’t ever lose the open-minded attitude. Look what good it did us,” he said.

His words made her stay very still. “They aren’t my kids, Mickey.”

“Oh Rose,” he said. “Of course they are.”


	12. Twelve

Twelve

The next couple of days passed quickly. The days were dry and mostly sunny so the bairns could do everything they had planned for their stay at the cottages. The castle was just a few hundred metres down the road, and they had turned the beach into their playground. Dave showed them how to make kites and they flew them on the sea breeze; the gulls were completely unfazed by the additional flyers. They had a sand castle competition and played a variety of games. One day they went rock-pooling a little ways down the beach, where the sand turned into blackened muck, and Rose made a marinara sauce with the small crabs they found. The sauce was served over spaghetti that they cooked in the largest pot in the kitchen. Tuesday started with a downpour in the early morning, so they went to an abbey, a stone circle and another tower house in the area. Later, after the rain let up, the contrast of the lighter sky against the nearly black clouds in the distance, made the perfect setting for some photos for the National Heritage Trust, so Dave got out his cameras and got a bit of work in as well. The grey stones looked almost golden, and the lawns and trees especially verdant. In the afternoon, when the tide was out, he took the children out onto the vast expanse of mudflats.

They took off their boots and socks, rolled up their trousers and squelched their way out to sea, the thick, sticky mud oozing from between their naked toes. The sun had come out, raising mist above the glittering, brown landscape, and Dave led them across sloughs towards the water’s edge.

“Eww,” Evie and Lucy complained at first. The mud was almost slimy and it definitely took some getting used to. The boys relished the mess, experimented with the noises their feet made on the wet ground, and they were soon joined by Evie, who pulled Lucy along by her hand. Thankfully, the surface of the mud warmed quickly so their feet didn’t get too cold.

They were all equipped with buckets. “We’re going to catch fish for tea,” Dave announced.

“Without a fishing rod?” Ewan asked sceptically.

“How, Dad?” Evie asked, squinting into the light. Her jeans, like the boys’, were already splattered with brown mud up to their seats.

“We’re going to stand on them.”

Lucy shuddered at the thought. “Can I just take pictures?”

“I’ll catch a fish for you, Lucy,” Ewan offered at once.

Dave exchanged surprised glances with Lucy and Rose, who both shrugged.

“But they’ll swim away, Dad,” Evie protested.

“No, because we’ll find them in the very shallow water, where it’s hard for them to escape.”

“But I can’t see anything,” said Paul, peering at the muddy water at his feet.

“You’ll have to feel for them with your toes,” Rose said.

“Have you done this before?” Ewan asked.

“Yeah. It’s a bit yucky at first, but you get used to it. Tony, my little brother, would love it.”

“You have a brother?” Lucy said.

Rose had never mentioned him to the bairns, and Dave had only seen his photo amongst other pictures of her family she kept on the mantelpiece in her lounge. “Yeah.”

“Well? We want to know everything about him!” Lucy urged.

Rose shrugged. “He’s a lot younger than I am. He’s only three. Mum says he looks like me when I was that age.”

Evie piped up. “Samuel is three too. He’s my nephew.”

“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” Lucy asked at the same time as Ewan wanted to know if they could meet Tony one day.

“No, it’s just Tony and me, and yes, I hope you’ll meet Tony and my parents one day,” Rose said.

“We’ll have another granny and granddad if you marry Dad,” Evie pointed out matter-of-factly.

Dave guffawed, but deep inside he knew that Evie was right. Provided, of course, that Rose was going to stay with him and the bairns. He loved Rose, and he had imagined their future together, but the idea of marrying her hadn’t entered his mind so far. It sent shivers up and down his spine. “Well, let’s see about those flounders now, aye? We don’t want the tide coming back in. It can get very dangerous if you don’t know your way back,” he said.

He caught Rose’s glance, though. She looked at him stunned, but there was also a small smile before the light of it left her eyes and she became disconsolate. He wanted to reach out to her and ask her what was wrong, but the bairns urged him along and then the moment had passed. Rose seemed a bit too cheerful at first, but over their exclamations of excitement and disgust as they felt with their toes for the flat fish in the shallow waters her mood shifted. It was good to hear her laugh.

Together, they managed to catch several fish, plenty for tea, and they celebrated with a mud fight. When they returned to the castle, they were covered in muck from head to toe, except Lucy, who’d been spared because she had her camera and was documenting the epic event for posterity.

“You were spoiling for that fight,” Rose said, as they did the only thing they could think of when they got back to the castle. They all stripped to their underwear in the walled garden and left their clothes there until after they'd all had showers.

“Aye,” he said, grinning. Rose shook her head and leaned up for a kiss.

“Gross,” Ewan complained as he brushed past them into the kitchen. She tugged at the back of her cami as it stuck, damp and cool, to her back. It was only then that she realised that the material must have been plastered to the geography of her back. Hopefully, none of the children had noticed it. Ewan’s comment suddenly took on an entirely different meaning.

She hurried up the circular staircase (which wasn’t moving, much to the children’s disappointment) to their en suite to take a shower. Twisting and turning in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom she checked how much of her scars was visible through the thin material of her cami, but she couldn’t be sure. Dave, of course, caught up with her there and watched her for a few beats from the bathroom door. “You really ought to tell them.”

“Do you think they saw them? Can you see them through the cami?” she asked, working herself into a panic. She couldn’t tell the children what had happened. They knew that she’d had an accident and that Dave had helped her, but they had no idea how bad it was. And considering what had happened to Rita, she didn’t want to burden them.

“They’ve seen them before. Plus, they’re wondering why you never join them in the pool,” Dave said softly, stepping closer to help her out of the garment. “They’re coming up with all sorts of sordid and ridiculous tales. You know how they are.”

Rose sighed. She did know. “I just don’t want to give them nightmares.”

“Oh, Rose. Paul doesn’t want me to go to work by myself. Ewan checks on all of us during the night to make sure we’re still here. They are very well aware of how quickly they can lose a loved one,” Dave said.

Rose’s breath hitched. “What? You never said. About Ewan.”

“That’s because I got up to get myself a glass of water and I found him up checking on everyone.”

Rose wasn’t sure what upset her more, Dave’s continued nightmares or Ewan’s need for reassurance. “It might be an explanation for Evie’s ghosts at the keeper’s cottage after all.”

“Aye,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “God, I’m so tired, Rose. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to make them feel safe again. It’s so unfair.”

Rose burrowed into him, tucking her head into the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder. His skin felt cold to the touch, and she started to rub him gently. “One day, Dave, they’ll be better. I’m sure of it. They’re a resilient bunch. I just think they really need to mourn Rita. Have you looked at pictures of her lately? They miss that, and I think it helps them keep her memory alive.” She loosened her embrace and looked up at him.

“I don’t want you to feel left out.”

“Never mind me, Dave. You need that time to yourselves, and it’s not like I can’t keep myself occupied for an hour or two. I’d hate it if you didn’t remember her because I’m around,” she said. “I’m not jealous.”

“You aren’t getting tired of them, are you? They can be a handful.”

“Not at all, although having a little alone time is nice, but I suppose all of us need it. It’s why I love book hour so much.”

“You, Rose Tyler, are made of gold,” he said. “If I wanted you to be there, if we wanted you to be there, would you?”

Rose wasn’t sure at first if that was a good idea, but maybe the need to explain things to her so she didn’t feel excluded might help remembering. “Only if the kids want it too.”

“Thank you, Rose. I’m glad you said that, because frankly I feel a bit lost sometimes.”

Rose smiled and rose to her toes to kiss his cheek. “I’d better get into the shower if we want to eat dinner this side of midnight.”

Once all of them were freshly showered and the washing machine was busy the next drama that unfolded at the castle was killing the flounders. They had filled the buckets with water so the fish didn’t perish, but in the end the idea of killing them for dinner didn’t appeal to any of the kids. Or Dave. So Lottie and Rose offered to deal with it, and once they had filleted and cooked them in a coat of crumbs no one objected any more.

That night, the children were so knackered that they asked if they could go to bed early. It hadn’t gotten dark properly when Dave, Rose, Lottie and Lucy found themselves in the Great Hall in front of a log fire, each of them enjoying a glass of red wine. Lucy had watched Dave in disbelief when he had poured her a glass as well, even if it was just half of what the adults got. “We’re on holiday,” he explained. Lucy sat very upright when they clinked glasses, and the relish with which she tasted the drink made Rose smile. The wine was good, although she would have preferred a dram herself, to go with the air here. It was a curious combination of the sea, seaweed and sweetness, which she supposed added its very own flavour to the whisky that came from the island whose coast they’d seen on the horizon that afternoon.

“I’d like to return to Haywood after the holidays,” Lucy said after a while of silence. All four of them were staring into the fire, listening to the wood crack.

“I’d assumed that,” Dave said.

“Anna said something about better schools for us,” Lucy said. “I think Haywood is pretty good. My friends are there. But…”

Rose saw Dave huff at his sister-in-law’s meddling. Although they both knew that Anna meant well, she knew Dave hated the idea that Anna discussed her ideas with others, let alone the children, without talking to Dave first. Rose supposed she did that because she knew that Dave would object to most of them. She had her own ideas of how to raise the bairns, ideas that were at odds with many of Rita’s, and she tried to do what her sister had done: put them in place despite Dave’s wishes.

“But what, love?” Dave asked, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees.

“I’m afraid they’ll keep asking me how I am. I’m not sure I can bear that again. I know they mean well, but it’s exhausting, having to tell them lies,” she said.

“Lies?” Dave frowned.

“I don’t want to be the girl who lost her mum,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to be reminded of it all the time. School’s when I can escape it all for a while. No offense, Dad, but it’s good to be able to get away from it occasionally and school should be that time for me.”

Dave sighed, and the way he pursed his lips Rose knew that he certainly felt the same way some times. Getting away from it all was what he’d done too. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You should tell them. They’ll understand.”

Lucy’s eyes widened a little. Rose felt a pang go through her at her reaction. After all they had gone through, Lucy still didn’t know Dave. Or maybe she didn’t trust herself to trust him. “Ye think?”

“Aye,” he said, straightening to look at her. “You did, didn’t you, Rose?”

Rose found herself nodding.

“I’m sorry I skipped registration, Dad. I had no idea they’d come and talk to you. I didn’t mean to cause you any bother.”

“Of course you didn’t. You were protecting yourself,” Dave said.

Rose and Lottie exchanged glances. It was obvious that Lottie disapproved a bit of the lack of communication between them, but she also knew that life hadn’t been easy for them. She didn’t say anything, however.

“I’ll talk to the headmaster when we get back, and make sure that they treat you like everyone else, okay?” Dave said.

Lucy’s shoulders sagged a bit with relief. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You must promise me something in return, though,” he said.

Lucy’s face darkened at the condition that came with his forgiveness.

“Talk to someone when you need to. Anyone, aye? Don’t bottle it up,” he said.

This time, Lucy smiled. Clearly, she hadn’t expected this. “I will. Promise.”

Dave smiled too. “Great. Now, what would you like to do when Rose and I are back from our mini-break?” So far, all of the children had made suggestions as to what they wanted to do; only Lucy hadn’t had a chance to ask for a certain activity yet.

“I’d just like to go join you when you work,” Lucy replied. “I’d like to spend some time with you, Dad.”

The expression on Dave’s face was priceless. He turned to Rose for help, but she looked away quickly, focussing on Lucy instead. She didn’t want to be his guide in this. To be quite honest, she was surprised by her modest request as well, but then again, she had just travelled with Stuart, who had spoiled her rotten. Maybe one thing she didn’t get was his undivided attention.

“Is that okay?” Lucy asked meekly.

Dave clicked his mouth shut. Then he said, “Of course it is. I love spending time with you, but I was asking more along the lines of a day trip you might want to go on, a place you want to see or an activity you’d like to do.”

“I’m really just happy being back,” Lucy said. “Maybe we could just see if we find something that we all like, while you and Rose are away.”

Dave sighed. “Of course, love. Find something you all would like to do on Thursday. Or maybe you’ll think—”

“Dad. You don’t get it.”

He stared at her. “But—”

“Shut up, Dave,” Rose said.

He turned his wide-eyed gaze at her, his disbelief rolling off him in waves. “But—”

“No buts, Dave,” Rose said. “I’ll deal with him, Lucy, don’t worry.”

She seemed a bit reluctant at first, but eventually she nodded and picked up her empty glass of wine. “I think I’ll go to bed now. See you in the morning.”

“Smashing idea. Gute Nacht, everyone,” Lottie said, rising as well, and together they left the room.

“What was that about?” Dave asked, slightly annoyed.

Now it was Rose who stared at him. “Are you really so… thick?”

He bristled. “Seems I am,” he grumbled.

“All Lucy wants is spend time with you. She doesn’t care about all the day tripping hullaballoo. It’s not important what you do,” she explained.

“Oh. But I want her to have fun.”

“But she is having fun, you glaikit man.”

“A few weeks ago she wanted to leave me,” he said, puzzled.

“She didn’t want to leave you, Dave, she needed to get away from herself.”

“She scared me. I was afraid of my own daughter,” he said, clenching his hands into one fist. He watched, with detachment, his knuckles go white. He didn’t understand.

“Have you told her that?”

He shook his head, relaxing his fingers. “Maybe it’s a good idea to spend more time with her.” When he looked up at Rose, she smiled. She lifted her hand to touch his cheek. Then she leaned in for a kiss, which they quickly deepened.

“Please don’t call me glaikit,” he said, enfolding her in his arms.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Just kiss me,” he mumbled, his hands already seeking a way beneath her shirt. Her skin was exceptionally soft from the lotion she had applied after her shower, and, eager to take in her scent, he pulled the shirt up and over her head. It landed somewhere behind the sofa. Rose shifted to straddle him, and the new angle gave her complete power over him, which he enjoyed as they kissed and caressed each other. Somehow, she managed to tug at his long sleeved t-shirt and bunch it up between them. Her touch on his stomach sent shivers of delight through him. They ought to move and take this to the bedroom. Anyone who went down to the kitchen for a drink had to pass the Great Hall. When a footboard creaked he thought it was his overactive imagination, but his eyes fluttered open anyway as Rose nibbled on the side of his neck, and he saw Ewan standing just inside the door to the room. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at them. Dave felt all the heat rise from his crotch to his face, and he whispered to Rose. “Rose, stop. Please, stop.”

“Why?” she said distractedly.

“Ewan’s there.”

“Oh.” For a moment she was very still.

“Ewan? What is it?” Dave asked, trying to shift Rose a little into the cushions so her scars weren’t on full display, but it was probably too late now anyway.

“I can’t sleep,” Ewan said, sounding fully awake. “I wanted to read in here.” He held up the epic paperback volume he had picked up at Laighgairy, an omnibus of detective novels. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s all right,” Dave said, tugging his shirt back into place. “Just give us a minute.”

Rose looked at him, chewing her lip. He got up to find her shirt. They should have been more discreet with the house full of people, particularly when they knew that Ewan tended to wander around checking on everyone. Not much harm had been done, however. The children had seen Rose’s naked back that afternoon; or hopefully not. Being caught snogging was a bit embarrassing.

“Did you want to make a baby?” Ewan asked.

Dave didn’t know what to say, so he opted for honesty. “No, we didn’t.” He picked up the shirt and handed it to Rose. “Did we?”

She merely shook her head as she quickly put it back on.

“How about some hot chocolate before you go to bed?” Rose suggested.

Ewan shrugged, but Rose got up anyway and left, probably to get him some anyway.

“Ewan, come and sit with me,” Dave said, settling back down on the sofa. “What you saw was private. We shouldn’t have done it in here, but sometimes we just get carried away.”

“I know what you did,” he said defiantly. “Do you want a baby with Rose?”

“Eventually, yes, but not now. It’s too early yet.”

“Good.”

“We’re quite safe here, you know,” Dave began. “There’s no need to check on us, and you know we tell you when we go out.”

“Are you going out tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Ewan chewed his lip and stared at the book cover in his lap. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Aye. Paul told me not to worry too.”

“He’s right. Would you like a sleeping pill? Sometimes a good night’s sleep helps break the spell,” Dave suggested.

“No. I want to do it by myself.”

“Shall I tuck you in then?”

Ewan’s eyes lit up and he nodded. But then, “What about the hot chocolate?”


	13. Thirteen

Thirteen

When Dave pulled the door to the boys’ room closed behind him, Rose was coming up the stairs with two mugs of hot chocolate. He raised an eyebrow because he hadn’t really expected her to make any. “Is he asleep?”

“Like a baby.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint him in case he really had trouble going to sleep,” she explained. “We could have always shared the other mug.”

“You are spoiling us,” he said.

“So he knows what we did?” she asked as she followed him up the stairs to their bedroom.

“They’re growing up far too quickly for my taste,” Dave said, closing the door behind her. She went on straight to the bathroom, where she put the two mugs on the stool beside the tub. “What are you doing?”

She turned on the tabs and plugged the drain. “I’m a little tense, and I feel like taking a bath. Want to join me?”

He replied by taking his clothes off. “I think they saw your scars earlier, and I’m sure Ewan got an extra glimpse in the Great Hall.”

Rose sighed as she gathered her clothes and carried them into the bedroom. It was a small miracle that she had been able to keep her scars a secret from the children for as long as she had. She really ought to tell them where they came from so they stopped worrying. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. We shouldn’t have snogged on the sofa anyway. Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

“I know what you mean, my love,” she replied, stepping into his embrace. As she pressed herself against him she could feel him harden against her. “I’ll tell them. I promise.”

“I don’t want to press you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“Hmm,” she mumbled, tracing the shape of his lips with her fingertips before kissing him. The tub wasn’t full yet so they had a few minutes before they could get in. She reached between them for his cock, weighing it and wondering, once again, at how soft the skin was compared to the hardness underneath.

“Rose, the bath,” he reminded her as she played with him. His eyelids fluttered shut and he was fighting it.

“Don’t you like this?” she asked.

“I… do, but,” he said, “I want to make love to you properly.”

“Then do.”

“No. The bath…”

She couldn’t quite believe him.

“Okay.”

She stepped away from him, kissing his jaw. They climbed into the tub together, moving the stool within easy reach and putting the mugs of hot chocolate on it. Dave lay back and pulled Rose down with him, holding her close. His erection was going soft, but she could still feel him against her bum. “Thank you, Rose.”

“Are you all right, my love?” she asked him. He usually didn’t turn her down.

“Aye.”

“What about your dreams?”

“I still have them,” he replied, scooping up water with his hands and pouring it over her chest. “But you know what helps?”

She moaned in pleasure, rubbing her hand on his knee to encourage him to continue talking. After the glass of wine and the chocolate she had reached that point when drowsiness made her body and limbs ready to sink into bed.

“The photo memory sessions with the bairns,” he said. “I showed them a photo last night while you and Lottie were out for a walk.”

Rose let out an ‘Oh’ of surprise in an attempt to hide her disappointment. She knew she shouldn’t be hurt. They’d had this family ritual before she came into the picture... and hadn’t she encouraged Dave to reinstitute it just the day before? They needed a way to remember their mother. It was important that they did, and it was probably better that they did it without her, for now at least.

“Do you want me to tell you about it?”

“Yeah,” she croaked.

“It was a photo of Rita when I first took the bairns to hospital after Evie was born. She was so wee. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a tiny baby. She was beautiful. Of course she was. All parents think their baby is beautiful, but Evie really was. She wasn’t wrinkled like most of them because she was so small.”

“So that’s why Ewan asked earlier,” Rose concluded, drifting back to wakefulness.

“Aye.”

She started playing with his fingers. Part of her wanted to tell him that chances were there was never going to be such a photo with her and their baby, but it wasn’t the right moment. He had enough grief to go through now, she didn’t need to add to it by mourning a baby they would never have. “Tony was very big when he was born,” she said instead. “I think there must be a photo like this in every family. I really loved his smell; I couldn’t get enough of it. Him.”

“It’s the happy memories we ought to treasure. They’re in the past already,” he said. “There’s no need to mourn them.”

“No. But it’s… so much nicer when you can share them with the people you created them with,” Rose finished.

Now it was Dave who hesitated, and she had an idea of what was on his mind. Still, the question, when it came, tightened her chest. “What is it like, remembering life with the Doctor?” She tugged at his arms so he held her closer.

“He never lingered to look back,” she said. It was a lame answer, and although he had opened up to her, Rose felt it very difficult to discuss Over There with him. “He was fond of the times he took me out on a date-like thing. To the chippie. I paid, because he usually doesn’t have any money on him. Or money that actually buys him stuff in the place he’s in.”

Dave chuckled and pulled her closer still.

“I have to learn to let go of him,” she said, leaning forwards to reach for their mugs. Dave touched her scars with his fingers, then pressed his flat palm against them.

“It’s why you keep these,” he said. “I know that.”

She turned around as far as possible in the small tub. “What do you want me to tell you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, honestly baffled. “Anything you’re ready to share.”

She regarded him carefully as he finished his hot chocolate and passed the mug back to her so she could return it to the stool. “I don’t want you to be jealous.”

He looked at her. “The children wonder if you’d like to join them the next time we look at pictures.”

“I’d feel like an intruder,” she replied.

“I don’t think I’m jealous of the Doctor. I envy you for the things you saw, the places you visited. How can I be jealous of a man who for all his heroics wasn’t brave enough to tell you he loved you?”

-:-

Rose dug out her mobile to take a quick picture of Dave. He was sitting on one of the faded red plastic chairs that were mounted in rows on the top deck, wrapped up in his his coat and a blanket Rose had thrown into the boot of her car. It had earned her a curious glance and probably created the image of a picnic; the latter wasn’t entirely unmerited. She had smuggled his coat and a basket full of goodies for lunch into her car earlier as he’d played with the children — who had taken to heart the task she’d given to keep their dad distracted for her. The wind was whipping his hair about, and Rose was reminded again just how long it actually was. The way he styled it, neat and unexciting, betrayed its length on the top. But from washing and running her fingers through it she knew how luxuriously long it was. She almost didn’t want the other people on board the small ferry to see him like this.

The sting of the wind had reddened his cheeks, and he had turned his face towards the sun, his eyes closed. It was a stormy day, and Rose wondered, again, if the wind would blow the storm inland or trap them on the island. Anyway, Dave looked gorgeous. For the first time since they’d set off on their grand tour he seemed truly relaxed and at ease. Apparently, talking about his dreams had diminished their horror. He still had them, but they didn’t seem powerful enough any more to drive him out of their bed. Also, the time he spent with each of the children seemed to do all of them good. They needed to establish their roles and relationships anew, now that Rita was gone.

For a few terrible moments every day Rose wondered where she fit in the picture of the family, if she’d even have a place in it once they got home. The five of them seemed to be doing so well. They didn’t need anyone else, least of all another baby, to challenge the balance they were establishing. It was little wonder that Ewan had reacted the way he had when he’d found them the previous night.

She took the picture, pressing the lump in her throat down as she closed the camera app.

“Hey.”

“Hey you,” she replied, smiling.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said, sitting down beside him as he unwrapped the blanket from around his thighs and invited her to join him. His warmth seemed unreal after the cold of the wind. The weather forcast showed that the warm, dry spell they’d had was about to come to an end. Dave put his arm around her and pulled her close. It took Rose a beat or two before she relaxed against him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for taking me to Islay.”

“I was a bit worried about the amount of travel it involves.”

“I can do with some peace and quiet. And I love having you all to myself for a day or so,” he said, turning his head to kiss her. Without knowing it, he had said what she needed to hear.

“Yeah.”

He chuckled. “I did warn you. The bairns can be a handful.”

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“Why would I?”

“For needing a holiday from the holiday,” Rose said. “But don’t get me wrong. I love the kids. More than is probably healthy.”

He was very quiet for a few beats, so much so that Rose sat up to be able to look at him. “I don’t really know what to say. I wish I were more like you.”

“What?”

“You always know what to say, you always have an answer and you listen. And you love my children.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and Rose cupped his cheek to guide him to her for a kiss. She didn’t have it in her to tell him that he had that knack as well, but she didn’t want to hurt him by telling him about her earlier thoughts. She was too ashamed of herself. So she kissed him with all she was worth, as if pressing her lips to his and surrendering her mouth to him, the origin of her words, would cleanse her thoughts.

When it was over, she leaned back, enjoying the sunshine as it battled the dark clouds, and inhaled the cold, salty air.

The wind was considerably weaker once they had reached the island and Rose drove them along the coast. But just before they reached the small village that housed their hotel, she took a right turn and pulled into a car park that led to the sandy beach beyond the dry stone wall and a strip of grass. “Time for lunch, don’t you think?”

They enjoyed the food on a proper picnic blanket, the kind that is waterproof and insulated on one side, but wrapped themselves up in the blanket once they had finished, much like they had done on the ferry. “I’d like to stay here with you like this. For the rest of the holiday,” Dave murmured, drowsily nuzzling her below her ear.

“I think that could be arranged,” she replied. She didn't want to be reasonable, not when she knew that his words were only wishful thinking to begin with. They sat like that for a while, until they both felt the need for some coffee. It was time to check into the hotel anyway, and while she was very tempted to shag him on the inviting fourposter, they walked the short distance to the distillery to get a guided tour. It was amazing, Rose thought, how much the whisky tasted of the air and water where it was made, and she ended up buying more bottles than she had planned. Dave watched her in amusement as he took his lonely bottle of the 25 year-old whisky to the till, where it disappeared in a protective wooden box.

The menu of the distillery’s own restaurant caught his eye, but he didn’t comment on it after he had scanned it. Rose knew what was on it; she’d read it online as she’d booked a table for them. Suppressing her knowing smile, she tugged at her cowl, winking at him as he took her hand. “What?” he whispered as he leaned in conspiratorially.

“I just like it that you’re such a foodie.”

“I’m beginning to become one again. And that’s your fault.”

“Mine?”

“Aye. You make me want to spoil you.”

“Until I look like an Italian mamma?”

He laughed, then sobered as his eyes darkened. “Oh, I think I know how we can prevent that from happening.”

“Oh?”

“It seems I can’t get enough of you, Miss Tyler. I want to make love to you.”

“Where? How?”

In their room, she ended up half-dressed on the bed as Dave tugged off her knickers and socks. She undid the buttons on her blouse, but when she sat up to shrug it off, he ran his hand up her torso so she lay back. “Leave it on. Please.” He crawled between her legs to undo the fastening at the front of her bra and he replaced the cups with his hands. Rose draped her legs over his thighs, and she shivered briefly when she brushed against his cock in the process. Although she had regretted it at the time, it now turned out a great idea that they hadn’t made love the previous night.

Dave started to give her breasts a gentle massage. It was more of a caress, his touch was that of a lover, exploring and enjoying, giving pleasure as he played with her nipples rather than relaxing her. “Put your hands above your head,” he said, “I don’t want you to touch me.”

Rouse pouted briefly, but soon closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensation of his caress. It was amazing what he could do to her with just his hands.

“So good,” she sighed, arching into his touch.

“You’re so beautiful, Rose.” He started to run his fingers along her collar bones, across her ribs, and down to her stomach, applying just enough pressure. Rose hummed. Although his touch was sensuous, but rather than being aroused by it she felt warm and comfortable, at home. She’d never felt like this with anyone in bed. She almost didn’t want this to stop or move on to actual sex.

But then, suddenly, Dave let go of her and she could feel him lean down for a kiss as her pelvis tilted. He pressed his groin against hers, and his cock rested against her folds. Dave pushed his arms beneath her shoulders and kissed her languorously. “I love you, Rose.”

“Mmm, I love you too.”

“I want you.”

“I don’t think I’m ready yet,” she said, opening her eyes. The room was suddenly very dark. She could hear the wind tear at the foliage of the trees outside the room and combing through the wine crawling up the grey stone of the mews cottage in which their rooms was housed. “Touch me.”

He sat up and cupped her sex. She wasn’t aroused, and when he slid his fingers past her folds he could feel the lack of wetness. “Your touch was so comforting,” Rose explained sheepishly.

Dave smiled, but it was clear that he was a bit disappointed. He was hard, after all. “Do you mind if I try something?”

“I trust you.”

“Shift a bit further up the bed. I’ll be back in a sec,” he said. Rose spied him going to his bag to get a small bottle which he rolled between his palms.

“Massage oil?”

“The edible kind.”

“You, Mr Tiler, are quite something,” she said, poking the the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

“I’ve wanted to try it for ages.” Passing her the oil to warm between her hands, he grabbed one of the towels and put it under her bum. Then he climbed onto the rather high bed and knelt between her legs again. This time he draped her legs over his thighs. He took the bottle from her and poured some of the oil on his hands before he poured a bit of it onto her mons. Rose twitched a bit, and she could feel her sex warming.

He then started to massage her properly, but he dedicated all his attention to the insides of her legs, her mons and the space enclosed by her hipbones. And then he drifted to her labia, tugging at each of them one at a time to make them puffy and soft. By the time he attacked her clit, rolling it gently with his thumb while he did magical things with his free hand, Rose felt her juices flowing. Oddly enough, she lay very still, breathing deeply. Eventually it became too much and she succumbed, arching into her orgasm crying out softly as she pushed her head back into the pillows.

When she recovered, Dave was lying on top of her, keeping the bulk of his weight off her with his knees and elbows. His warmth was like a blanket, and the vein in his penis throbbed in time with her clit.

“That was wonderful.”

“Did you like it?”

“As gentle orgasms go, this was the best I’ve ever had,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around him.

“I aim to please.”

“Now what?” she asked teasingly.

“Now,” he said, sliding his hands beneath her shoulders to pull her up with him as he sat up, “I’d like to come just like you. Gently.”

Rose adjusted her legs and shifted a little so she had some leverage when she rose to take him into her. He had already put on a condom, which she hated but didn’t let on, and relaxed to accommodate him inside her. She sank down on him, and when his pubic curls touched her mons, he held her still in a tight embrace. “Let’s stay like this for a while,” he whispered.

“I love this,” she said. “It’s so peaceful.”

“Aye.” They kissed for a while, her muscles rippling around his pulsing cock, until she had to squeeze him and they set up a lazy rhythm. When both of them needed just that little bit more, Rose reached between them to touch herself. When she came, rippling around him, he spilled himself as well. He had been aroused for almost a day, so it didn’t take much to make him throw back his head and groan in pleasure.

-:-

The wind had picked up when they stepped outside, whipping yet more locks of hair out of Rose’s artfully messy bun.

“They air smells of rain,” Dave said, tightening his grip around her hand.

“Yeah. Let’s hope the weather holds until we’re back at Sauchieslock Castle.”


	14. Fourteen

Fourteen

“You look ravishing,” Dave said, closing the door to their room. “I’ve been meaning to tell you all night.”

Rose tucked the tip of her tongue into the corner of her mouth. “I was hoping you’d like it,” she said. She was wearing a red forties-style wrap-around dress that revealed just the right amount of cleavage and closed at her right hip with an elaborate red flower. She’d thought it might be a little posh for the distillery restaurant, but thankfully, the other women were dressed just as nicely. Not that she really cared much about it as long as he liked it. “Thank you.”

She remained standing where she was, tilting up her head as he bent to kiss her. It was a gentle kiss, and Dave hummed in appreciation as they lightly traced seal of each other’s mouth. He was torn between his desire to make love to her immediately and the overwhelming urge to wrap her in his arms, crawl into bed, and shelter from the burgeoning storm.

“Open my dress,” Rose whispered, ducking her head so her forehead rested against his chin. He pressed a kiss to her skin and he hesitated briefly before reaching for the flower on her hip. He found the hidden buttons and slipped them free, pushing his hands inside her dress. Her skin was warm and soft and he closed his eyes as he enjoyed touching her. When his right hand wandered over her hip and down her side he noticed that there was a strip of fabric that shouldn’t be there. His eyes fluttered open and he felt for the fabric.

“Is that what I think it is?” he whispered, not daring to look. He felt the first stirrings of arousal.

“Do you like it?” she asked. Was she nervous?

He slid his hand down the side of her thigh until he found the button holding up the stocking, and then he drew his fingers to her front to feel the other suspender. His fingers wandered along the length of fabric until he reached the top of the garter belt. He exhaled sharply, hardening further. “Oh Rose.”

She took his hand, impatient all of a sudden, and pushed it between her legs. She wasn’t wearing any knickers, and she was very wet already. “I took them off in the loo at the restaurant.”

“You’ve…” he began, but his voice cracked with arousal.

“I want you, Dave. All night long I’ve imagined what you’d say about these,” she said, her hand gliding off his and onto the garter. He was still cupping her sex.

“I love them,” he said. “I love you. You’re amazing, Rose. And incredibly sexy and beautiful.”

“Please, Dave. Just… take me. Make love to me,” she said.

He took a step backwards and pushed aside the material of her dress to look at her. Her lingerie was plain black with a little lace and lots of silk. He loved her elegant style, sexy but not frilly. He started undressing. He wanted to take her in for as long as possible, so he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and took off his trousers and pants, impatiently toeing off his shoes and wiggling out of his socks. He cursed himself for wearing a vest; he’d been so dazed still after their short nap that he hadn’t remembered not to put one on tonight. So he shook off his shirt and pulled off his vest so he was entirely naked while Rose was more or less dressed.

“Condom,” he said.

Again, she took his hand and guided it to her garter, where she’d tucked a foil pack between the material and her skin. He grinned as he pulled the packet from its hiding place. The condom was still warm when he rolled it on.

“Dave! Please,” Rose cried.

“Aye, I’m here, my love,” he said, confused and a little worried about her urgency. He stepped towards her and slid his hands inside her dress, pulling her towards him for a kiss and a embrace. Rose was almost trembling as he held her. “Rose, Rose. What’s wrong?”

“I just want you, Dave. Please, don’t make me beg,” she said.

He didn’t want to point out that she was, in fact, begging. “Here?” He’d wanted to pick her up and lay her down on the bed. Or maybe bend her over a piece of furniture.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He nodded and slid his right hand along her thigh to pull her leg up by the knee. Rose helped him by hooking her leg around his, and, dipping slightly at the knees, he aligned himself and slid inside her. Rose half sobbed, half sighed as he stretched her, holding tightly to him. “Oh Dave, Dave, Dave,” she moaned.

Then he understood. Anticipation had gotten her into such a state, and while he found her outfit very sexy, he had hadn’t yet gotten used to it, or fully appreciated it. Rose’s imagination must have been working overtime during dinner. She’d not been worried about the weather so much as about his reaction to her secret.

“Thank you, Rose,” he whispered. “You’re gorgeous and hot and simply wonderful.” He was running out of adjectives. He pulled out of her, adjusted his grip, and eased himself back inside. Then he kissed her slowly, hoping that maybe it would help to calm her down a little. It was the last night without fear of interruption before the end of the family holiday, and he wanted to take his time showing his appreciation for the gift she’d given him.

Rose pushed her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, and he groaned. “Dave, I’ve… I’m sorry. I need you. Please.”

“Come on then,” he said, “I’ll carry you to the bed.”

Rose wrapped her right leg around his waist also, and while he groaned a little under her weight, he quickly manoeuvred them to the bed, where he gently lay her down. In the process, he slipped out of her, but when she lay there, he was pushed close to the edge. Her dress had fallen open, and the garter and stockings framed her sex. Grabbing one of the firmer pillows, he places it beneath her bum. He knelt between her legs and draped them over his thighs. He wanted the angle to be perfect when he pushed into her.

It was perfect.

He couldn’t kiss Rose or hold her, but he could watch her. Her face was exquisite as he moved in her. She pushed her head back into the pillows, her mouth open but silent save for soft sighs and whimpers, her eyes closed and, when he tried something new, suddenly flew wide open.

Both of them came very fast, and he drove himself to completion after Rose had gone limp, her hands sliding from his wrists which she’d had in an iron grip and squeezed even more tightly when she came.

He sat back on his heels, trying to catch his breath, her muscles still rippling around him when it was over. In a daze, he moved away from her to clean himself up, but this time he couldn’t be bothered with a trip to the bathroom. He snuggled up to her, needing to give and receive comfort after the intensity of their lovemaking.

“Thank you, Dave,” Rose whispered, her eyes watery when she turned her head to look at him.

He smiled. “Oh no, Rose. Thank you. That was… powerful.”

She stretched to kiss him gently. “Yeah. Much more so than I’d imagined.”

“You’d worked yourself up into a right state,” he said, caressing her hair. He loved her hair, its scent and texture, its warmth on his skin.

She laughed softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I was just… very surprised, is all. And it took me a while to catch up with you.”

“Can we do it again? Some time?” she asked.

He grinned. “Oh aye.”

-:-

They caught the first ferry back to the mainland, which, according to the time table, would have been the penultimate one that day. The sea was still very choppy, and they were glad to know that the cars had been secured in the bay. This time, they didn’t sit outside. The wind was too fierce, whipping the spray from the sea and soaking the deck. They had found a place to sit in the centre of the deck, where the movement of the ship wasn’t as strong. He looked a bit green round the gills, Rose had said, and if truth be told, he’d be a very happy man as soon as he had firm soil beneath his feet again.

By the time they reached Sauchieslock Castle, it was getting dark. The storm had raged here as well, trapping everyone inside for the day. There was, however, an extra car in the drive.

“That’s Sarah’s car,” Dave said as he pulled into the empty space beside it. He’d been driving, and it had worked wonders for the mild case of nausea from the ferry.

“Oh?”

He tensed. The journey from the castle to Glasgow was manageable inside a couple of hours. He hoped nothing had happened in their absence. Reception had been down on Islay, but the last time he’d checked his messages, there was just one from Lucy cautioning them to drive safely and take their time. No emergency then. Hopefully.

“I’m sure everything’s all right,” Rose said, reaching for his hand across the gearbox.

He turned to look at her and leaned towards her for a kiss. “Aye. Thank you, Rose. It was wonderful.” The hotel had let them stay a little longer because of the storm, since the next guests wouldn’t be arriving until late that night. They had spent the morning in bed, making love one more time and cuddling and napping. It had been hard work to take his mind off the children at times. He hoped they were all right with just Lottie around. He hated the idea of Paul being scared and dreaming up all kinds of scenarios. So it was with a little trepidation that he grabbed his bag and hurried across the courtyard in the drizzle. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to have Sarah around.

“Hello! We’re back,” he called. The hall was cold and dark.

“Where is everyone?” Rose asked, closing the heavy door behind her.

“Lottie? Sarah?” Dave called, heading towards the circular staircase to hurry up to the Great Hall. Although there was a games room with a massive flatscreen TV in the modern annexe, they had spent most of the time in the mediaeval Great Hall, which was cosy and just more like an adventure, Evie had explained.

The room exploded into action the moment he stepped inside. The children had been hiding in the sofas, whose backs faced the door. “Dad!”

“Hello!”

“You’re back!”

“Dad!”

“Dad!”

“Rose!”

The children stormed towards him and bowled him over so they were a squealing tangle of bodies on the thick carpet. He laughed too, holding the three wee ones close, kissing whoever he could reach. He saw Rose, Lucy, Lottie and Sarah stand around them, smiling. The bairns helped him up and he hugged Lucy and Sarah and Lottie. It was good to be back, and he understood once more how blessed he was with such a great family and friends. His heart skipped a beat when the children hugged Rose closely as well, albeit not as forcefully as they had cuddled with him.

“Sarah, what a surprise. Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Oh yes. What a day for travelling,” she said. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, ye have,” he said.

“Bad surprise?”

“No. Just unexpected. A surprise.” He beamed at her. They hadn’t seen each other often in the past few weeks, and he had missed her. He realised now that Sarah had been more of a friend to him than he’d thought. When Rita had been alive, he’d always felt a little surplus and hidden away.

After they had bundled the children into bed, the four adults and Lucy sat in the Great Hall, catching up and enjoying a late supper of some cheese, bread and wine Sarah had brought from a cheese shop she’d discovered. It was delicious, and Dave was reminded of the fact that they’d skipped tea.

“I have a lodger now,” Sarah said after they had discussed the day’s events at the castle.

“Oh?”

“Male?”

“Female. A teacher, actually,” Sarah explained. “It was all very sudden, so I thought why not? The place has been a bit empty since Matt moved out.”

“Is she at your school?” Lucy asked.

“Yes. She teaches History. She’s very young. Her name’s Jenny. You’ll have to come and meet her. She’s very nice. She doesn’t know anyone here. Came to Glasgow on very short notice but she lucked into the job at the school,” she said, sipping her wine.

“And you left her alone? Why didn’t you bring her?” Lottie asked.

“Well, she did say she needed some time to settle in.”

“Speaking of which, I’m knackered,” Rose said. “It’s been a long day.”

“The weather’s supposed to be better tomorrow. Do you think we could go to there?” Lucy asked. She gave him a brochure of an adventure park that had elevated obstacle trails and zip lines — in the ruin of a castle an hour’s journey away. It was also on the coast so they could go and play on the beach afterwards.

Dave smiled. He’d hoped Lucy would suggest something as well, but he hoped she hadn’t picked the adventure park just to humour him. “Sounds good,” he said.

-:-

The weather the next day was rainy so they couldn’t go. Lucy didn’t seem too disappointed about going to another swimming pool on their last full day on holiday. “Is that all right with you? You could always stay here,” Dave asked as they packed their bags for the pool.

“No, of course I’ll go.”

“What about your scars?”

Rose dropped her towels on the bag and straightened. “Do you think they’re so horrible?”

He sighed. “You know what I think.”

“I’m just not sure if I’m ready to parade them in public like this. They are,” she faltered.

“You don’t have to go, my love, but I think you ought to tell the children the truth rather than claim you’re unwell. They do worry about you, you know. And after all we’ve been through with Paul I think they’re capable of dealing with them.”

This time it was Rose who sighed. “I know, Dave.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Rose took a deep breath. “I’ll come. And I’m going to tell them.”

He smiled. “Is there anything you’d like me to say when you tell them?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Sarah will be there as well.”

“Yeah,” Rose said. “Yes, I know. I don’t mind.”

While they were at the pool, Dave could see that Rose tried to behave naturally, but he was well aware of her self-consciousness. He almost hated himself for asking her to finally show her scars. He was doing laps in the pool proper, when it occurred to him that Rose hadn’t yet come to terms with them. He’d never stopped to think that the night she showed them to him and let him explore them might have been a huge step for her. Only a few months had passed since the accident in which she had lost any hope of ever getting back to her original universe. It must be a brutal realisation. He felt a right git. She’d been nothing but supportive as he dealt with his emotions over losing Rita, and he repayed her by pressing her to explain the scars to the children.

He finished the lap quickly and got out of the pool to find Rose. She was on one of the loungers, playing cards with Evie. Her scars were on full display since she wasn’t wearing her rented terrycloth robe; the temperature at the pool was positively tropical.

“Rose. Evie,” he said, forcing a smile. Rose, of course, saw right trough it.

“Is something wrong, Dave?” she asked, trumping the card Evie had played and collecting her winnings.

“Are ye all right?” he asked.

She nodded, giving him the why-wouldn’t-I-be look.

He nodded, sceptical, and settled on his own lounger, picking up the book he’d brought. There were too many things on his mind to take in the story, however.

“Dave, what’s wrong?” Rose asked eventually.

He put his book down and saw that Evie had left. “She’s with Sarah,” Rose explained at his pointed look at the empty space on her lounger.

“I’m such a glaikit git,” he said without preamble. “I never stopped to think what showing the scars might mean to you. I was only ever thinking of the bairns. I’m so sorry, Rose.”

“It’s a tricky one, Dave,” she said slowly. “But you’re right.”

“Have they seen them?” he asked, incredulous that she wasn’t mad at him. While he hadn’t expected a slap, he’d prepared for a tongue.lashing. Maybe that was yet to come.

“They’d have to be blind not to,” Rose said softly. “Of course they have.”

“I’m so sorry, Rose.”

“They haven’t said anything,” she said.

“How do you feel?”

“Naked.”

He sighed, sitting up and ruffling his hair. How could he hope to make it up to her? “Would you like to leave? I could tell them you’ve had a call from Mickey.”

She smiled and leaned across the gap between their loungers. “That’s sweet of you, Dave, but it’s a little late for that now.”

He noticed the children looking at the scars, but they didn’t say anything, bless them. They probably felt shy about asking Rose directly, but he was sure that given some time they’d work up the courage or elect a spokesperson to enquire after them.

When the afternoon at the pool was over, the boys showered and waited for the girls outside the changing rooms. When they finally emerged, Lucy looked like she was in pain and she wasn’t carrying her bag.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked, alarmed at once.

“I slipped on the tiles in the shower. I fell. On my bum,” she said.

Ewan laughed, but quickly hid his reaction by clamping a hand over his mouth. Dave couldn’t blame him. The mental image was funny, but Lucy’s obvious distress wasn’t. “Are ye all right?”

“I absorbed the fall with my hands,” she said. “So my tailbone is okay.”

“But your wrists aren’t,” he concluded.

It was, again, the wrong thing to say. What was it with him an upsetting women today? Obviously, Lucy hadn’t thought about her wrists yet. Any permanent injury to them was the potential end of her playing the violin. Her music meant a lot to her, and he’d hate it if she lost that creative outlet.

“I’m not sure,” Lucy said, looking from him to Rose. She rotated both wrists tentatively. “They are a bit achey.”

“We should bandage them and let Donna or Dominic take a look at them tomorrow,” Rose suggested. “Is that all right?”

Lucy seemed to be weighing the benefits of having a doctor she knew examine her versus the instant gratification of having had her wrists looked at at a local hospital where no one knew her and she might have to wait for ages. It was their last night on holiday, after all.

“Aye,” she said. “Let’s do that.”


	15. Fifteen

Fifteen

Lucy joined Rose for the return trip. The plan was to stop by the Priory to have Dominic check Lucy’s wrist. It had been quiet for the last few days, so Dominic was on call and he made a special trip in to see Lucy. He was so sweet and gentle with Lucy that Rose wanted to kiss him. He took her concerns seriously but remained optimistic and reassuring while he was listening to her. By the time Lucy had finished telling him how the accident had happened, the poor girl was so upset she was crying. Her left wrist in particular had started smarting during the night, and she’d been very anxious all morning.

Dominic took both her wrists and examined them carefully with his fingers. Rose had never noticed how slender Lucy’s wrists were; they looked like fine china in Dominic’s confident hands. “I can scan them to make sure nothing is broken. I think you just bruised them.”

“Can you do that, please?” Lucy asked, her eyes swimming in tears.

“Of course, love.” He produced one of the new scanners and ran it over her wrist. The device worked with harmless radiation and projected the image onto a whiteboard as well as transferring it to the computer’s memory. The result was a 3D image, and he could peel away the layers of skin, muscles and sinews to reveal that the bone structure was intact, but there were signs of bruising. “See?”

Lucy heaved a sigh of relief.

“I’ll bandage the left wrist and I’ll give you some painkillers if you want. You should give it a rest for a week or so,” he said.

“But—“

“You’ll be able to play again, Lucy, but to make absolutely sure you really ought to leave your violin in its case for the time being,” he said firmly but gently.

Lucy slumped a little. “I will. Thank you, Dominic.”

“That’s all right.”

When Rose dropped Lottie off at the house on Hillingdon Drive the children talked her into spending the evening with them. She’d been looking forward to being in her own house, to get a bit of peace and quiet, but she was also a little scared of the silence. She’d grown used to always having someone around to talk to or share a cuppa with. It was reassurig, even when she wanted to shut the world out for a bit. She’d have to learn to be by herself again.

Not that she liked being alone. She had always lived with someone. Mum, the Doctor. Mum and Pete, for a short while until she’d moved in with Mickey and Jake. And then she’d moved to Glasgow, and the house she’d bought was the first place that was truly hers alone.

“Is there anything you need? I could pick it up on the way back,” she said.

Ewan’s face fell. “I thought you’d be staying here.”

“I really need to go home to check if everything’s all right. Go through my post, get the washing started. That sort of thing, yeah? I’ll be back in time for tea,” she promised.

Ewan clearly understood her point, he just didn't like it much.

“You’re a saint,” Dave whispered as he kissed her goodbye. “Thank you so much for everything.”

“I’ll bring a bottle of red wine if I can stay the night,” she whispered back, taking his hand. “One last… time making love.”

Dave’s eyes widened in shock. Damn, she’d got that wrong. “I mean, one last time on this trip.”

He guffawed. “Well, aye, of course. I’d love that. If there’s silk involved?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, my love,” she joked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Ah. You do remember what anticipation did to you the other night, though, don’t you?”

“That was… special, yeah,” she smiled.

“Oh aye.”

“Let’s not make it something… Something that we get used to,” she cautioned.

“You’re very wise.” He kissed her one last time before she got into her car and drove off.

-:-

The house seemed bigger than she remembered it when she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Thanks to Mickey, she didn’t have to push a heap of post and magazines out of the way to do so. He had stacked her letters and magazines neatly on the kitchen table, and he had also aired the place regularly and and left her some provisions so she didn’t come home to a completely empty larder. The fruitbowl on the counter was full, and in the fridge she found some milk, yogurt, and cheese and a loaf of bread. It was enough to get her through the next day. She intended not to leave the house once she returned from Hillingdon Drive the next morning.

Things went so well with Dave and the kids that she suspected she’d be at that their place more often than she would be at her own home. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She loved them all, but she also valued her independence and found the idea of not having a place to get away by herself a bit unsettling. The Doctor had respected that wish, and the TARDIS had accommodated her and provided as much space for her as she needed. Or privacy.

She put the kettle on and stepped into the shower. After letting the hot spray pound on her shoulders for a while, she pulled on a robe to go to the kitchen to make herself a cuppa and settled in for a ‘spa day,’ taking time to do the things she hadn’t had time, or privacy, to do when traveling. She massaged lotion into her skin, conditioned her hair and used a deep cleansing facial mask. She was used to doing these things semi-regularly and her mood elevated as she thought about how wonderful it would feel to Dave when they made love later.

As she waited for the facial mask to dry she settled in her bedroom with a cuppa and one of the magazines she subscribed to. That was, of course, when Mickey called.

“Hey, Micks.”

They exchanged some pleasantries before Mickey told her the reason for his call. “We’ve just finished our inquiries in Laighgairy,” he said.

-:-

The children welcomed her as if it had been weeks rather than hours since they’d seen each other. She wondered if that was affection only, or if maybe their fear of losing her also played a role . She’d have to talk to Dave, who held back a little, smiling at them with his arms crossed and leaning casually against the wall. When Rose went to him to kiss him hello, he gave her only a chaste peck too, although he seemed to linger a little, and he certainly took in her scent as he briefly closed his eyes.

“Miss me?”

“All the time,” he whispered. “The children insisted we have Lottie’s burgers to celebrate. I hope that’s all right.”

“I love her burgers,” Rose said.

She didn’t eat much, however. She watched each of them put together their perfect burger and found it funny to see how different their preferences were. Dave had finished half his burger when he realized that she wasn’t eating. He set the other half down, wiped his hands of and interaced their fingers. “Hey. You all right?” His big brown eyes were full of concern.

“I’m not very hungry,” she said softly. It wasn’t true; what she lacked was appetite. It was becoming overwhelmingly clear how much the bairns and Dave meant to her, and for a moment there she’d been terrified for no good reason that she was going to lose them all, and soon. The idea was unbearable, and part of her wanted to leave then and there to deal with the pain now rather than later. She felt her eyes go moist, so she put on a smile for him. “Are they good?”

He stared hard at her, then looked up at the children. They were chatting excitedly and not paying them any attention. “What’s wrong, my love?”

She stared at him.

“I don’t need to be some sort of telepath to know something’s wrong,” he pointed out.

“No, of course not,” she said, smiling. “It’s just me, being silly.”

“It can’t be silly if it makes you look like that.”

“What do I look like?”

“Like the woman I found in the street.”

She lowered her gaze to her empty plate. He was right. That was exactly how she felt. How could she reply without falling apart in front of everyone?

“Rose?”

It was Paul. She blinked briefly and looked up. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’ve made this for you,” he said, presenting her with a plate with a burger exactly the way she liked it. If anything, that little gesture made her want to weep more than her feeling of impending loss.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the plate.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Paul asked.

Again, she forced a smile. “I am, I was just… watching you lot and thinking how lucky I am.”

“We are the lucky ones.”

Dave gave her fingers a squeeze, and she noticed that everyone was looking at her. After a few brief moments the silence threatened to become awkward, so she said, “Micky says hello. He called me earlier to tell me about Laighgairy.”

Her words did the trick and the mood shifted back to the light-heartedness of before her confession. “You never said,” Dave said. “What did they find?”

“It must be a time traveller,” Rose said.

“From the future?”

“How does that work?”

“He could be from the past, silly!”

“No, he couldn’t!”

“So? Rose?”

“Definitely someone from the future,” Rose said, smiling. “Usually, we don’t notice time travellers, particularly not when they are not in our time. But in places like Laighgairy, it sometimes is possible, and people like to think it’s ghosts.”

“How?” Ewan demanded.

“Well, we all travel inside… goo.”

The children stared at her, not sure if goo was nice or icky.

“Well, maybe not goo,” she said, looking at Lottie for help.

“Nutella?”

Rose laughed. “Exactly! So, you know what Nutella is like? It's sticky, so imagine what it would be like to try to move inside a glass of it.”

Dave tutted. It wasn’t a good image to come up with from the point of view of a concerned parent, but it certainly gave the kids a good idea what she was on about. And Dave probably too.

“It’d be hard to move.”

“And dark.”

“And very quiet.”

“Exactly. Perfect for hiding in. Now, imagine a glass of Nutella on the windowsill, in the sunshine. It goes soft, and let’s just imagine you can hear but not see in the soft Nutella.”

“Oh.”

“So that is what happened to Evie? She heard the time traveller in warm Nutella?”

“Chocolate sauce, more like,” Ewan giggled.

“Can I have a Nutella sandwich, Dad?” Evie asked.

“Sorry,” Rose mouthed to Dave, who looked a bit helpless. “You can after dinner. Instead of ice cream, okay?”

Evie nodded eagerly.

“So, you heard a time traveller.”

“How does mickey know?” Ewan asked.

“They have gadgets for that sort of work,” Rose said.

“Are they still trapped in Nutella?” Evie wanted to know, her brow knitted in concern.

“No, love, they’ve either gone home or arrived wherever they were going.”

“Have you travelled in time?” Paul asked.

Rose took a deep breath. “I have, but I was in a space ship at the time. Which is far more comfortable, plus you don’t need to take a bath afterwards to get the Nutella out of your hair.”

Evie giggled at the image.

“Where did you go?”

“Oh, all sorts of places. I met Madame de Pompadour and Queen Victoria. I was at the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games.” She had to be careful not to mention the events that had never happened here, like the coronation of Elizabeth II, or Charles Dickens.

“Which ones?” Ewan asked.

“London, 2012.”

“But that’s in two years’ time!”

“Who says time travel is all about going to the past?” she quipped.

“Is that how you got your scars? Travelling in time?” Paul wanted to know. He bit his lower lip when he realised what he had let slip.

“We saw them on holiday,” Lucy explained. So far, she had just listened.

Rose took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier. Dave told me you’ve been wondering. And worrying.”

“Do they hurt?” Evie wanted to know.

“No, sweetheart, they don’t,” Rose said.

“Well, what happened?”

“I was doing a job for Torchwood, and I had an accident. Dave found me and called them for help.”

“Did Dominic help you?” Ewan asked.

“No, he wasn’t with us back then,” Rose explained.

“Poor Dad,” Lucy mused.

Ewan snorted. “Poor Rose!”

Lucy glared at her younger brother, which seemed to help him make the connection. This wasn’t only about poor Rose, but also about poor Dave, who had found a half-dead woman in the middle of the street not long after he had lost his wife in a car accident.

Dave squeezed her hand again. “It’s okay.”

“Can we see them? Your scars?” Paul asked. When he noticed her shocked expression, he hurried to add, “We’ll only ask this once.”

It was fair enough, she mused, particularly since she had made them wait and they had been so good about it. It turned out that, after all, her strongest allies had been with her all the time. “All right, after tea.”

(End)


End file.
